Back in the Game
by CommanderRaydorSass
Summary: Sharon and Andy are looking forward to their first "night" together after his heart attack, but a health scare may cause Sharon's maternal side to interfere with Andy's intentions.
1. Chapter 1

After closing a rather difficult case, Sharon was happy to get home early enough one Wednesday afternoon to cook dinner. It had been almost a month since Andy's heart attack, and he had a doctor's appointment the next day to determine whether he could go back to work. His heart attack had, thankfully, been mild, but given the stressful nature of Andy's job, his doctor hadn't yet cleared him to return to work. Sharon stepped out of her heels before she'd even closed the door. She looked around for Andy and spotted him reading on the patio, so she decided to change into more comfortable clothes and get dinner started before going to greet him.

Much more comfortable in yoga pants and her favorite beige sweater, with her hair pulled back, Sharon tied her apron on and started dinner. The news was blaring on the TV in the background, so she never heard Andy come in. She jumped when she felt his arms around her. His lips went straight for the sensitive spot on her neck that made her crazy. This was his signature way of initiating bedroom activities, and, more times than not, he was successful.

Sharon pushed Andy's face away from her and stepped to the side. "Don't even think about it, Casanova." Logically, she knew that it was now safe for that, but she'd feel much better about it if his appointment the next day went well. He still seemed so fragile to her. Andy had been too tired to even think about sex the first week after his heart attack, but he had been insufferable since then.

"Sha-a-aron!" Andy whined.

"Rusty's not going to be happy when he finds out you've taken over his 'whiner of the house' title. Four syllables. That's impressive."

"Well, you're being ridiculous about this! The doctor said it was perfectly fine to resume sexual activity when I feel up to it. Trust me. I feel up to it."

"Just one more day, Andy. Humor me. I'll be less sleep-deprived, and Rusty will be safely across town at Gus's. The wait will be worth it." Rusty's presence in the condo hadn't stopped them before, but it was so much better when they didn't have to be sure to keep quiet.

" _Fine_ ," Andy huffed. He turned to walk away, but Sharon pulled him back to her.

"I didn't say we couldn't do _stuff_ ," she said meaningfully. She _had_ allowed pretty much anything short of actual sex in the last couple of weeks, but Andy hadn't wanted to do much more than kissing. He'd rather not get himself aroused and then have nothing to do with it. They'd been making out against the kitchen counter for several minutes when Sharon felt a familiar bulge against her. " _Seriously_ , Andy? That's all it took?" An amused smile played at her lips.

"I told you I was up to it," he said, sheepishly. "Come on, Sharon, blue balls _can't_ be good for my blood pressure."

Sharon rolled her eyes. "Thanks for the image." They started back at it, but froze when they heard keys clanging in the designated bowl and the door slam. They hadn't heard the door open, but Rusty was obviously home. _Shit_. There was no possible way for Andy to escape without Rusty seeing him.

"Oh, come on, you guys," Rusty groaned. The kissing had come to an abrupt halt, but it was no mystery what they had been up to. "Do you _have_ to suck face in the kitchen? There's _food_ in here! _I'm_ in here, for that matter!"

Sharon hastily untied her apron and gave it to Andy to hold. He faced the counter, trying to shield himself between it and Sharon, and busied himself with looking through a stack of mail. Sharon hoped Rusty would say hello and go straight back to his room to drop his things off, but he stepped into the kitchen. "Hi, honey. Um, don't you have some reading to do for class tomorrow?" He was still a Journalism major, but he was minoring in Political Science for the heavy reading and writing that would help prepare him for law school.

"My day was great, Mom, thanks for asking. And one of my classes was canceled today, so I got it done then. I only have one class tomorrow that I have to read for."

"What do you need? I'll get it for you while you put your things away," Sharon offered, desperately trying to get him to leave the kitchen. 'Scarring Rusty for life' hadn't been an item on her otherwise extensive to-do list today.

"Thanks, but I'll get it. I just wanted some Tylenol."

That was easy enough. Rusty had a bottle of water in his hand, so Sharon could just toss him the Tylenol bottle and send him on his way. She carefully turned around to get the Tylenol from the medicine cabinet, but, out of habit, she instinctively opened the bottle and shook two pills into her palm to hand to Rusty, like she always did when she gave him medicine. _Damn it._ He was already approaching her, and she couldn't very well replace the pills and toss him the bottle now. Still standing awkwardly against Andy, Sharon placed the tablets into Rusty's waiting palm. He gave her a strange look. He couldn't believe she hadn't demanded to know what was wrong with him that required Tylenol. It usually annoyed him when she did that, but, now that she hadn't, he found that he missed her concern. Whatever. It was just a headache. "Thanks, Mom." Rusty accepted the pills and started for his room. Once he was a safe distance away, Sharon followed him down the hall to make sure he was okay.

Sharon stood in Rusty's doorway as he put his bag on the floor and took the Tylenol she'd given him. "What's the matter?"

Rusty shrugged. "I just have a headache. I was up late last night finishing my paper, and then I had to help Hobbs sort through a shit ton of paperwork from the case you guys just finished this afternoon. My God, you guys can kill some trees."

Sharon smiled. "All right. Why don't you lie down for a little while? I'll come get you when dinner's ready."

"Yeah, that sounds pretty good. Thanks."

"You're welcome." Sharon kissed her son's cheek and left the room.

When she got back to the kitchen, Andy had finished her dinner preparations and put it in the oven. "You think he suspected anything?"

Sharon sighed in relief. "I don't think so. He wouldn't have commented on it, but I would have been able to tell if he had."

Andy grinned. "As awful as that was, I believe Provenza still takes the cake for 'erection with the worst audience possible.'

"Ugh, I don't think I want to hear about this."

Andy gave her a puzzled look. "You already _do_ know about this." Sharon gave him a blank stare. "We've talked about it more than once. The entire LAPD knows. You've heard the story about the flight attendants we, you know, _visited_ one night, and-"

"I know that story, but didn't you guys find the dead body before the, _you know_ , _visit_ could escalate?"

"Yes, but...You've honestly never heard this part?"

"If I had, then I would definitely remember it."

"Well, Provenza had taken something to, um, speed things along right before we found the body. It kicked in right before Chief Johnson arrived."

Sharon shrieked with laughter. "You're _kidding_! The version I heard of this story left that part out. So, did she, uh-"

"She didn't actually see it, but everyone knew what was up-literally-when she asked him why he was sitting on the couch instead of helping with the investigation. I'll never forget the look on her face when she noticed his hands covering it and realized what was going on. And he was wearing this god-awful Hawaiian print shirt, which makes the story even better. I finally handed him a couch pillow to cover it up. Damn, Brenda was pissed at us that night."

Sharon had tears streaming down her cheeks from laughing so hard. "I don't blame her. You two really did put her through hell. I kind of even feel sorry for her." Sharon wiped the tears from her face. "Have you taken your walk yet?" Andy was slowly building up his physical activity, per doctor's orders, and taking a ten-minute walk every day was part of that.

"Not yet. I knew you'd be home in time to go with me, so I waited. I'm, uh, going to need a couple more minutes, though."

Sharon and Andy put their walking shoes on and took the elevator down to the lobby. Before his heart attack, Andy went to the gym several times a week, but they were both enjoying the evening walks outside on days that Sharon got home at a decent hour. The October evening was cool, for LA, anyway, and they talked about their plans for the upcoming weekend as they strolled around the block.

When they got home, Sharon looked in on Rusty, and she was a little concerned when she found him asleep. He was usually quick to complain to her if he didn't feel well, though, so she brushed it off to him just being tired and left him alone. Dinner was ready a couple of hours later, so Sharon went to wake him up. She sat on his bed, pulled his covers back, and lightly shook his shoulder. "Wake up, honey."

"Nuh-uh," Rusty muttered, trying to pull the covers out of Sharon's hands.

" _Uh_ -huh," Sharon retorted. "It's time for dinner." She ran her hand over his forehead and through his hair. "Are you feeling all right?"

"Yeah, I'm just tired."

"Well, you won't be able to sleep tonight if you don't get up now."

"Okay, okay, I'm coming."

By 9:30, Rusty figured it was late enough to go to bed and not elicit more questions from Sharon. He really didn't feel bad, he was just tired. "I'm going to bed, so you lovebirds can have the couch to yourselves," Rusty commented as he left the room.

Sharon looked at him with concern. "Goodnight, sweetie. Do you need more Tylenol?"

"No. My head still hurts a little bit, but it's not bad."

"I'll bring you some, anyway." Sharon gave Rusty a couple of minutes to get ready for bed before going back to his room with the Tylenol and a glass of water. "Are you sure you feel okay?"

" _Yes,_ Mom, I'm just tired. I barely got four hours of sleep last night, and then I had class and my internship all day today. You were about to fall asleep on the couch, yourself."

"Yeah, but I didn't sleep at all last night. I just came home this morning long enough to take a shower and change clothes." Sharon kissed Rusty's forehead and straightened his covers over him. "Goodnight, honey. Love you."

"Love you, Mom."

Sharon turned Rusty's lamp off, changed into her favorite pajama pants and a sweatshirt, and returned to the living room. Andy gave her an agitated look. "You've already shut me down for tonight, Sharon. You didn't have to bring out the 'flannel pants of doom' to rub it in."

Sharon looked down at herself, confused. "What?"

"Maybe you do that subconsciously, but any time these babies come out, I know not to even try."

"They're _comfortable_."

"Uh-huh. So, do you always coddle the kid over a little headache?" He teased.

Sharon rolled her eyes. "I wasn't _coddling_ him. I just needed to make sure he was okay. He usually tells me if he doesn't feel well, but it's been two years since he's been sick. I'm afraid he thinks he's too old or something to complain."

"I don't think he'll ever grow out of complaining. You've been around him recently, haven't you?"

Sharon smiled. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

Andy gave her a dumbfounded look. "I _am_? How did _that_ taste coming out of your mouth?"

Sharon gave him an exasperated look. " _Not_ good, so don't expect to hear it again for a while."

On Thursday morning, Sharon eagerly watched her phone for a text from Andy as she trudged through her paperwork from the most recent case. If he was cleared to return to work, he was going to come straight to the station, but he was going to let her know one way or the other before he left the doctor's office. Her phone dinged a few minutes later with the anticipated text. _All clear for work, and my physical abilities are where they should be for this stage of recovery. You know what that means..._

Sharon immediately responded with only emojis: the woman raising her hand, the red heart, and the woman dancing. Andy called them her 'sexy time emojis.' This was usually Sharon's way of letting him know she wanted some on days that she came to that conclusion early in the day, but if someone else happened to see them, then they wouldn't know what it meant.

At 2:00, Andrea and Rusty arrived from the DA's office. Thursdays and Fridays were Rusty's longest days with her, as he only had morning classes on Thursdays and no class at all on Fridays. Andrea just needed to tie up some loose ends, which didn't take long, and then she and the team stood around talking for a while. Rusty hung back from the group and leaned against an empty table. Sharon had realized he didn't feel well as soon as he'd arrived with Andrea, and she discreetly shot him a few concerned looks as everyone else talked. His cheeks were flushed, he was biting his bottom lip like he usually did when he was nauseous, and his eyes looked runny, like he'd been sick to his stomach recently.

"T-minus four hours until we're alone in an empty condo," Andy whispered into Sharon's ear.

"Hmm," Sharon mumbled distractedly. Rusty had finally met her eyes, and he was giving her the look that was usually followed by 'I don't feel good.' "Oh, no," Sharon murmured.

"No, what?!" Andy sounded indignant. "What are you saying no about?!"

Sharon sighed. "We're not going to be alone tonight. I just got the 'Mom, I don't feel good' look. Rusty's sick."

Andy looked over at Rusty. Now that Sharon mentioned it, he did look a little off, but not necessarily sick. He wouldn't have noticed anything at all if Sharon hadn't said anything. "You can't _possibly_ know that from here."

" _Yes_ , I can. His cheeks are flushed, and he looks like he's gotten sick in the last hour or so. I'm afraid he has a stomach bug."

"But he can still go to Gus's!" Andy persisted. "He's old enough to let his boyfriend take care of him instead of his mom."

"No, he can't. Gus gets paid by the hour. If he gets sick, then he can't work. He can't afford not to get paid. He also works with food. Rusty can't knowingly expose him to illness." Sharon also knew that Rusty would still want her with him, but she didn't bring that up. Andy wouldn't understand. "That doesn't necessarily mean we can't do anything tonight. We just won't be alone. If it's just a stomach bug, then I hope he can get it out of his system this afternoon and then sleep it off tonight. A lot of stomach viruses only last a few hours."

"Ugh, I knew this was too good to be true," Andy muttered.

"Let me go see what's wrong with him." Sharon crossed the room and sat beside Rusty on the table.

"Mo-om, I don't feel good," Rusty whined.

"I can tell, honey. What's the matter? I can tell your stomach isn't feeling good, but anything else? Headache?"

"Yeah."

"Is that all?" Rusty nodded. "Why didn't you tell Andrea you didn't feel well and needed to go home? She'd rather you make your hours up next week than get her and the rest of the DA's office sick."

"I know, but I knew we were coming over here, and I wanted to, like, make sure I was really sick before I said anything. Do I have a fever?"

Sharon was trying to be discreet and not 'mother' Rusty too much in front of everyone, but no one was paying them any attention, and he was already lying on her shoulder, so he obviously wasn't worried about it. "I would say so." She wrapped her arm around him and felt his forehead. "Hmm, you feel a little hot." She put her hands on his cheeks and studied him closely. "How long ago did you throw up?"

"How could you _possibly_ have known-never mind. I don't even want to know. Not long after I got to Andrea's office, so, I guess, like, an hour ago."

"Have you been nauseous since then, or did it go away after you got sick and come back?"

"My god, you could creep someone the hell out. It didn't go away."

"You always bite your bottom lip when you feel nauseous. That's called _observant_. Not _creepy_."

"Whatever." Rusty took a deep, uneven breath. "Can I just stay here and ride home with you? I don't feel like driving home."

"I don't want you driving, either. I can take my paperwork home, so as soon as you have a chance to tell Andrea you need to leave, I'll take you home. I'll bring Andy to work tomorrow, and then he can take your car home."

"Can't you just tell her for me?!" Rusty pleaded.

"No, honey. This internship is your responsibility. And you need to learn to speak up about things that you're uncomfortable with bringing up. Like a girl you just want to be friends with and adoptions and vlogs about your boyfriend's sister's murderer and a man named Gary who possibly wanted to kill you-"

"Okay, okay, I get it," Rusty interrupted. "Fine, I'll tell her."

"Good."

Andrea broke away from the group several minutes later and came over to Rusty. "Ready to go?"

Rusty gave Sharon one last pleading look, but she shook her head. "Um, I don't feel well, so I was going to stay here with Mom and make up my hours next week, if that's okay," he said nervously.

"Oh, that's fine. I'm sorry you're not feeling well. I'll work with you on your hours if I need to, I don't want you to come back until you're well again."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome. Feel better."

When Andrea was gone, Sharon gathered her things and got a trash bag from the break room for the ride home. Rusty was waiting for her, slumped in the green chair in her office. "Let's go home, honey."

Rusty made it home without incident, but started gagging as Sharon was unlocking the door. He'd left the trash bag in her car, so she quickly opened the door and pushed him inside. "Kitchen sink, Rusty!" She called after him as she locked the door back. "Make sure you're on the side with the garbage disposal." Sharon dropped her things on the floor and ran to Rusty. She dampened a dishcloth and gently pressed it to his cheeks as she patted his back. When Rusty's stomach calmed down, she rinsed out the sink, wiped his mouth with the cloth, and gave him a glass of water. "Rinse your mouth out and go get out of these clothes. I'll bring you some ginger ale in a minute."

"Ughhhhhhh..." Rusty groaned. He slowly made his way down the hall, looking like a zombie. Sharon ran the garbage disposal and lysoled every square inch of the kitchen and living room while Rusty was changing into his pajamas. She'd tackle the bathroom later. The last thing she needed was for Andy to get sick. When she heard the toilet flush a few minutes later, she poured a glass of ginger ale and dug through the medicine cabinet for her thermometer. By the time she got back to Rusty's room, he was climbing into bed. He reached for the glass in her hand, but Sharon stopped him.

"Temperature first."

"Moooooom, you already know I have a fever. Why do you even bother with that thing?! I'm not a child."

Sharon smoothed her hand over her sick son's forehead. "Your temperature feels a little high for a stomach virus. It could be something a little more serious. I need an exact measurement."

" _Fine_ ," Rusty huffed. Arguing with Sharon never got him anywhere, anyway. She stuck the thermometer in his mouth and waited impatiently for it to beep.

"102," Sharon sighed a couple of minutes later. "That's what I was afraid of."

"Mom. That's not high." Rusty took the ginger ale from her and took a few slow sips.

"I'm afraid it's a little too high to just be a stomach virus, though. Where does it hurt?"

"It doesn't really hurt...Just feels gross."

"Hmm." Sharon gently pressed down on the right side of Rusty's stomach, just above his leg. "Does that hurt at all?" Rusty shook his head. "Tell me if you have any pain in your stomach at all. Pain from appendicitis often starts in the middle or on the left and moves to the right side."

"I will. Can I sleep now?"

"Yes...Wait, let me give you some Tylenol. I forgot you said you had a headache." Sharon quickly got the Tylenol and gave Rusty two pills. Once he was asleep, she put a basin on his nightstand, changed into some clean pajamas similar to the ones she'd slept in the night before, and sat in the chair in his room with her computer to work.

By the time Andy got home at 6:00, Rusty had thrown up again and gone right back to sleep, and Sharon had given the bathroom a Lysol bath and was working again in Rusty's room. When she heard Andy come in, she met him in the living room, wanting to keep him away from Rusty. Andy gave her an incredulous look. "Oh, my god, are those damn things _multiplying_?!" The sexy time emojis and flannel pants of doom in the same day? _That_ was definitely a first.

"Wha-Andy, I put these on to be _comfortable_."

"Uh-huh. So, how's the kid?"

"Not good. He's been sick twice since we got home, and his temperature's 102. It doesn't seem to be appendicitis, though..."

"It's just a virus, Sharon, let it run its course. He'll be fine."


	2. Chapter 2

Sharon seethed inwardly. She knew Andy intended to reassure her and not to sound condescending, but she couldn't help but feel like he was talking down to her. She knew he thought she was overreacting, and what the _hell_ did he know? "I've raised two children, and now a teenager, all by myself, Andy," she snapped. "I think I know when it's 'just a stomach virus' and when it's not. I'm not overreacting."

"I didn't say you were-"

"You were thinking it."

Andy held up his hands in surrender and started for their bedroom. "I'll just stop talking, then. It appears to be unnecessary." His voice faded as he went to change clothes.

Sharon knew she should apologize, but she was too worked up to feel sorry just yet. She brewed herself a cup of tea, but that wasn't what she wanted. She dumped it in the sink after two sips and poured herself a large glass of wine. This was a nightly ritual. Well, the 'glass of wine' part was, but not necessarily the 'large' part. Some nights, she may not even finish the glass she poured, but the sound of wine hitting the glass was relaxing in itself. She knew she'd be finishing her glass this time, though, and would likely be having another one after it. Needing a few minutes to herself, she took her glass out to the balcony. The sun was beginning to set, and the breeze was cool. She took a generous sip of wine and savored it for a few moments before swallowing. She'd opted for red this time. It felt warm going down, and when half of her glass was gone, calming her nerves actually seemed like a possibility. God, she could smoke the hell out of a cigarette right now. She'd officially quit smoking before she got pregnant with Emily, but she gave in to cravings every now and then. Hell, a couple of cigarettes every couple of years, if even that often, couldn't hurt. Until Andy moved in, she'd kept an emergency stash for moments where work and/or her children had given her enough hell to warrant one. Even if she did still have some, it wasn't bad enough for her to break in to the stash just yet, but she wouldn't turn one down if someone put one in her hand, either. Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard Andy open the sliding door.

"Is the deli down the street okay for dinner?"

"Oh, right. Dinner. Yeah, that's fine."

"I don't suppose Rusty will eat anything?"

Sharon shook her head. "Will you get him some soup, though? Even when he's feeling better, he probably won't be able to eat much more than that at first. He likes their Thursday special."

"Sure. I'll walk down there and get it, and that should take care of my ten minute walk for today. I'm assuming you don't want to come?"

"No. Rusty will probably still be asleep when you get back, but if he does wake up, I want to be here." The twenty minutes it would take Andy to walk to the deli, wait for their order, and get back that she would get to herself was appealing, too. She needed to cool down. She may not have been overreacting to Rusty being sick, but she had definitely overreacted to Andy. "Make sure you take your phone."

"Got it." Andy patted his pocket and went back inside. A few minutes after he was gone, Sharon refilled her wine glass and checked on Rusty. He was still knocked out. His laundry basket was overflowing, so she took it to the laundry room and put a load in the washing machine. He did his own laundry sometimes, but they'd both had a busy couple of weeks, and both of their laundry had been neglected. With the washing machine humming, she carried her wine back to the balcony. She didn't often indulge in a second glass, but she needed some extra help in calming her nerves this time. She couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was seriously wrong with Rusty. By the time Andy returned with dinner, her wine was gone, and she'd brushed her teeth and rinsed with mouthwash to remove its traces. She never tried to hide it from him when she drank, but she'd had more wine than usual tonight, and she'd rather not smell and taste like a winery.

"Thanks, honey." Sharon kissed Andy when he came in and started unpacking the take-out bag. One post-heart attack battle they didn't have to fight that many couples did was his eating habits. He'd already been a healthy eater and knew which of the deli's menu items were the most heart-healthy. She found herself keeping an eye on what he ate every now and then, but there was really no need for that. "I'm going to check on Rusty really quick, I'll be right back."

"I can check on him. I want to-"

"No, Andy. One sick, whiny male is all I can handle right now."

"I don't _whine_."

Sharon raised her eyebrows. "Hmm, then who was that moaning and groaning for a full week about a little cold a couple of months ago? Must have been my other boyfriend who lives here."

"You're funny. And I was really sick!"

"It was a cold." Sharon smiled, looking amused. She went down the hall and peeked into Rusty's room, and he hadn't moved. Halfway through dinner, though, they heard him shuffle across the hall and into the bathroom. "Oh, no," Sharon murmured as she got up from the table.

"What? He could just be using the bathroom."

"He didn't close the door," Sharon answered as she got a glass of water to take to Rusty.

"Do you honestly think he wants his mom standing over him while he pukes?"

"I don't care what he wants. I need to make sure he's okay and help him feel better." Sharon hurried down the hall to the bathroom. Rusty was slumped miserably against the toilet as his stomach violently contracted. She wordlessly dampened a cloth from the linen closet and knelt beside him. Once he was taken care of, she led him back to bed. His lethargy concerned her.

Sharon wracked her brain as she tucked Rusty in, trying to remember if Emily or Ricky had ever been sick with similar symptoms. She knew Rusty hadn't, not since he'd been living with her, anyway. They had both been sick at the same time with a stomach virus not long after he moved in with her, but it hadn't been this bad. The only thing she could think of was that Strep Throat always bothered Emily's stomach when she got it. Sometimes it made her throw up, and sometimes it didn't, but she always complained that her stomach hurt when she had it. Rusty'd had Strep Throat during his first Christmas with her, but she didn't remember him throwing up or telling her that his stomach hurt at all when he had it. That was also only the second time he'd been sick with her, though, and he still hadn't been very comfortable complaining to her about feeling sick. The fever, sore throat, and the fact that he hadn't been feeling well, in general, had been obvious to her, but she hadn't had a reason to ask him if his stomach was bothering him at the time.

"Rusty? Do you remember when you had Strep Throat? When we were in Park City for Christmas a few years ago?"

"When you, Nana, and Aunt Alice wouldn't get off my ass, and then I was sick for half of Christmas Break? How could I forget?" He grumbled. "God, Nana's even more annoying with the thermometer than you are."

"Do you remember if your stomach bothered you at all?"

"I don't think so, _why_?!"

"I'm just trying to figure out what's wrong with you. Strep always bothers Emily's stomach when she has it. Even as an adult. Does your throat hurt?"

"Kind of, but just from throwing up. It's just a virus, Mom, can I _please_ stop talking now?!"

"Does your stomach feel any better now?" Sharon pressed, ignoring Rusty's grouchiness.

"Not really."

"Hmm." She ran her hand through his hair and felt his forehead. "You still feel hot. You don't have any pain at all in your stomach?"

" _God_ , Mom, I told you I would tell you if I did. A girl I have a couple of classes with had a stomach thing last weekend and still couldn't go to class on Monday. It's just something going around campus, now let me sleep!"

"All right, honey. But _tell me_ if you have any pain in your stomach at all, or if you start feeling worse. If I'm asleep, then you need to wake me up. I'm serious."

"Okay, okay."

Once Rusty was asleep, Sharon cleaned the bathroom again, washed her hands, and went back to the kitchen to finish eating dinner. She felt a little better knowing that Rusty had been exposed to something that had turned out not to be serious. Andy had finished eating, but he was still sitting at the table. When she'd finished eating, they cleaned the kitchen and sat on the couch to watch TV. Sharon got up several times in the next couple of hours to check on Rusty. She was torn. She didn't want Andy to think she was avoiding him, but she always stayed near Rusty's side when he was sick. She didn't want him to think that Andy being in their lives now would change that. Since he was asleep, she settled for looking in on him every so often so he wouldn't be alone for too long after he woke up.

When Rusty woke up again, his face was burning, so he kicked his covers off. He realized too late that the rest of his body was cold, but moving to retrieve his sheets and comforter seemed like too much to ask for his heavy limbs. Ugh, his stomach felt like crap, and his head was killing him. His mouth was dry and tasted disgusting. Where was Sharon? She was usually beside him with a cold cloth in her hand right about now. He pushed that thought away. He was 20 now, and he no longer had Sharon's undivided attention at home. Which was fine. In theory. She deserved to be happy, and he was too old to be taken care of, anyway, but _damn_ that cloth would feel good right now.

After sleeping all afternoon, Rusty had no idea what time it was. It was dark outside, but he couldn't tell how much time had passed, so he didn't know whether it was Thursday night or Friday morning. The condo didn't seem still enough for Sharon and Andy to be asleep. His door was cracked, and the lamp in the hall was on. He listened for a few moments and could hear the TV on in the living room. Surely, it wasn't morning already? If so, it was early. He considered calling out for Sharon, but he knew that if she was awake, then she'd probably come check on him soon. He tried to go back to sleep and was able to doze, but being cold kept him from falling completely asleep. It wasn't long before he felt Sharon's familiar hand on his forehead and heard a sympathetic "hmm."

"Mooooom," he moaned.

"Hey, sweetie. What's the matter?"

"I'm cold."

"That's because you kicked your covers off."

"I was _hot_ then, _please_ get them for me." Ugh, he sounded like a bratty child. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"Don't worry about it. You seem miserable. I'd be ornery, too." Sharon pulled his covers up from the foot of the bed and straightened them over Rusty. She looked him over, her concern growing. He never asked her to do things like that for him. She usually did small things like this for him when he was sick, anyway, but he never asked her to. "Better?"

"Still cold." Sharon got a couple of blankets and layered them under Rusty's comforter. "Mom, my head hurts. Like, bad." Sharon reached for the Tylenol that was still on his nightstand. "Nooo, I'll just throw it up. It didn't really help, anyway." Rusty opened his eyes and gave her a pleading look.

"I'm sorry, honey. If you're not feeling better in the morning, then I'm taking you to the doctor. How's your stomach feeling?"

"Gross."

"I'll be right back." Sharon got a cold cloth and wiped Rusty's cheeks before holding it to his forehead, hoping it would help his headache. "Need anything?"

"Drink?"

Sharon helped him take a few sips of Ginger Ale. When he was sleeping again, she put the wet cloth in the bathroom hamper and started another load of laundry. Andy watched as Sharon got the laundry started and did a couple of other things around the condo, feeling like he should be doing something to help. He just didn't know what. "What do I need to do?" He finally asked.

Sharon gave him a confused look. "About what?"

"To help you."

"Oh. Nothing, Andy. I'm just getting what I can done while Rusty's asleep." Staying busy also kept her from worrying. It was too soon to tell whether something was seriously wrong, but she didn't have a good feeling about it.

"You know, there's something else that still needs to be done," Andy responded suggestively.

Sharon looked worriedly down the hall. "Andy...I want to just as badly as you do, but he could get up, needing something, any minute." Although, her worry about Rusty and irritation with Andy were causing the mood to wane.

"Your doors have locks, you know."

"I'm not closing the doors, much less locking them. If he needs to come get me, I want him to know it's okay to come in. He's really sick, Andy. I was hoping he'd have the 'sick' part out of his system and be sleeping it off by now, but he's not even close."

"Come on, Sharon. Have you considered that he could be exaggerating a little?"

Anger flared inside of Sharon. " _No,_ Andy, he's not. I've seen him sick enough times to know. He's really feeling bad. He complains, but he doesn't exaggerate, unlike _some_ people I can think of."

Andy's cheeks flushed. "Okay, okay," he grumbled. "I'm burning those pajama pants. Nothing but doom ever comes from you wearing those damn things."

Sharon laughed. "That wasn't my intention when I put these on!"

"How quickly the 'sexy time emojis' turned into the 'flannel pants of doom.' This isn't fair."

Sharon was starting to get irritated again. She was really worried, and all Andy could think about was getting her into bed. "Good thing I have time to do laundry tonight. I may need a couple of days' worth of the _pants of doom_ ," she snapped. She hated how she was acting, but she was already on edge, and Andy wasn't helping anything.

A little while later, Sharon took a stack of clean laundry to Rusty's room and checked on him while Andy was getting ready for bed. Once she was ready for bed, she climbed in beside Andy and was about to kiss him goodnight when she heard the unmistakable sound of Rusty getting sick through the wall. She closed her eyes and sighed.

"Want me to get this one?" Andy offered. Not that he had a clue what that entailed, or knew why the kid couldn't vomit on his own, but he felt like he should try to help.

"No, it's all right." Sharon rushed into the bathroom, and Andy heard the sink turn on for a moment, then heard the low hum of Sharon's voice. He couldn't make out what she was saying. She returned a little while later, looking drained.

"How's he doing?" Andy remembered where trying to reassure Sharon had gotten him last time, so he wisely avoided that.

"Not good. He should at least be getting a little bit better by now, but he's getting worse. I'm calling Dr. Blakely in the morning if he's not any better."


	3. Chapter 3

Late Thursday night, Rusty woke up and realized he was about to throw up, yet again. What the hell?! He'd never thrown up so much in his life. He crept across the hall and lowered himself to the floor. Sharon had left the hall light on before she went to bed, undoubtedly in anticipation of the trips to the bathroom he would be taking during the night. He practically stuck his head into the toilet when he started throwing up, trying to be as quiet as he possibly could. Not that it mattered. He was no match for Sharon's Mom Radar. No matter how little noise he made, she would still wake up and come take care of him, like she'd done the other two times he'd had to get up since she went to bed.

Rusty's suspicions were confirmed when he felt a cold cloth softly dabbing his face and a soothing hand rubbing his back. He didn't have to turn his head to know that Sharon was on her knees, right beside him. He was too miserable to try to tell her to go back to bed, or maybe he knew by now that he'd just be wasting his breath. When he was finished, Sharon flushed the toilet for him and gently wiped his mouth.

Sharon filled the glass she'd left in the bathroom for this purpose with water and crouched beside him again. "Here, honey, rinse your mouth out." Rusty obeyed and spit back into the toilet. Sharon flushed again and helped him off of the floor. Once he was back in bed, she tucked him in and felt his forehead. "You're still burning up," she murmured. "Does your head still hurt?" Rusty nodded slowly. "Let me get you some medicine." Sharon quickly cleaned the bathroom, then went to the kitchen and dug through her purse for the Advil she kept there, not wanting to overdo it with the Tylenol. Medicine, thermometer, and glass of Ginger Ale in hand, she went back to Rusty's room.

"Temperature first."

Rusty groaned. "Mo-om, just let me go back to sleep!" He whined.

"Come on, Rusty. It will take two seconds." Sharon pressed the power button on the thermometer and slipped it into his mouth before he could protest again. "See, was that so bad?" She asked, as she pulled the beeping thermometer out of his mouth a couple of minutes later and checked the readout. Rusty scowled in response. "102.6," she sighed. She turned the lamp on beside his bed so she could get a better look at him.

"Moooom, it's _bright_!"

"I know, honey, just give me a minute." Sharon put her hands on her son's flushed cheeks and studied him critically. Rusty felt bad for whining when he saw the concerned expression on her face, especially since she was being so patient with him, but, _God_ , he felt terrible. "Do you feel bad enough for me to take you to the ER?"

"Seriously?! People with a damn stomach virus don't go to the ER."

"People with a damn stomach virus don't have temperatures close to 103, either," Sharon retorted. She supposed it was possible, but not likely. "If you feel too bad to wait until we can see Dr. Blakely tomorrow, then I'll take you now."

"Noooo, just wanna sleep."

"All right..." Sharon brushed her fingers through Rusty's hair and turned his lamp off. As long as he was able to sleep and could hold down liquids, she was still willing to wait until the next day. "But, if you start feeling even a _little_ bit worse, then you need to tell me. Are we clear?"

Rusty nodded. "Cold," he mumbled, giving her one of his best pouts.

Sharon rolled her eyes. "I'll be back in a minute with some extra blankets."

"Wait, I feel gross. I'm going to take a shower."

"I'll bring you some clean pajamas," Sharon quietly called after Rusty as he stumbled across the hall. She changed the sheets on Rusty's bed, washed her hands, gathered some extra blankets, and tossed some fresh pajamas into the bathroom while she was waiting. When he was back in bed, she covered him with a couple of blankets before straightening his sheets and comforter over him.

"Mom..."

Sharon patted his back and sat back down on his bed. "I'm right here, sweetie. I'm not going anywhere." Recognizing the empty side of Rusty's bed as her fate for the rest of the night, she rubbed his back until he was asleep before getting another blanket for herself and lying down on top of his comforter.

Andy woke with a start on Friday morning to Sharon's alarm on her phone going off. Ugh, why wasn't she turning that damn thing off? He rolled over so he could reach over her and get it, but there was nothing to reach over. Her side of the bed was empty. And cold. She'd obviously been up for a while. She sometimes got up before her alarm, but when she did, she always turned it off so it wouldn't wake Andy half an hour before he had to get up. Like now. Hoping she was just in the bathroom, Andy listened, but the condo seemed still. He silenced her alarm, but the stillness of the condo seemed odd. If she'd had trouble sleeping during the night, maybe she'd watched TV and fallen asleep on the couch. If that were the case, he'd need to wake her up. Damn it. He had thirty more minutes! The kitchen, living room, and patio were empty, so he peeked into Rusty's room. The kid was spooned against Sharon, with his face buried into her back. They were both unconscious. He wondered if he had gotten worse overnight. He didn't know how bad it would have had to be for Sharon to stay in his room. He'd vaguely heard Sharon get up a couple of times during the night, but he'd gone right back to sleep each time and hadn't noticed when she didn't come back.

Andy sat on the edge of Rusty's bed and ran his hand over Sharon's face.

"Hmm," she mumbled.

"Don't shoot the messenger, but-"

"Can't. Gun's in my room."

"Ha, ha. Anyway, your screaming phone just informed me that it's time for you to get up."

"Nuh-uh." Sharon pulled her blanket over her face, trying to find some peace.

"I know, but we have this pesky little thing called work..."

"Not going," Sharon murmured, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. God, she was exhausted. She carefully eased herself away from Rusty and held her hand to his forehead, growing more worried when she realized he felt hotter than he had when he last woke up. She indicated for Andy to get up and followed him to the kitchen, not wanting to wake Rusty.

"You're seriously staying home?" Andy brewed some new tea he'd bought the day before and got some fresh fruit out of the refrigerator. "He's twenty, I think he can handle it."

"Of course I am. This isn't a little virus, Andy, he's really sick, and he needs me here. He's _clingy_. I've never seen him like this before. I can't even think about leaving him alone like this. You just saw him. If that were Nicole, would you be able to leave her by herself?"

"Well, no, but...That's different."

"Different _how_?!"

Oh, no. The hands were on the hips, and her eyes were flashing angrily. Even more frighteningly-so when her glasses weren't there to soften the effect. He'd summoned Darth. This wasn't good. He didn't even know what he meant, but it certainly wasn't bad. It was too damn early for this. What the hell were they even arguing about?

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean different. I just get what you're saying now, I guess," Andy conceded.

Sharon eyed his tea suspiciously. "Does that have caffeine in it?"

"Are you _kidding_ , Sharon?! When was the last time you saw me touch caffeine? I could have a little bit if I wanted it, anyway, and I don't need you to oversee my diet!"

"And I don't need your permission to stay home with my sick son. He'll be on his own soon enough, and I have more than enough sick days to spare. Not that I have to justify that to you."

"You're right, you're right, forget I said anything. I'm sorry." When in doubt, go to the safest responses. 'You're right' and 'I'm sorry' were the quickest paths he knew of to get himself off the hook. "Why don't you let me stay with him? You don't want to get behind on your paperwork, and I didn't go back to work until this case was over, so all I have to do is be Provenza's bitch. He's having a little too much fun with that, by the way."

"Thanks, Andy. I trust you to take care of him, but he'll be more comfortable with me. I was up with him for most of the night, so I won't be any good at work, anyway. I also don't want you to get sick. I can't imagine the level of whining if you actually were sick!"

"I'll get you for that." Andy wrapped his arms around Sharon and went straight for her neck.

"Andy-" Oh, what the hell. It had been entirely too long. Rusty had gotten up less than an hour before, so Sharon figured she had a good hour, if not longer, before he woke up again. She waited until they were safely in the bedroom before pulling her t-shirt over her head. Andy threw his pajamas off like they were on fire and was completely undressed before Sharon's t-shirt had even hit the floor. Sharon started to pull her pajama pants down, put Andy stopped her.

"Please, let me. Taking off the flannel pants of doom is probably a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity." He hooked his thumbs inside the waistband, ready to tear them off of her. "Hmm, I could have sworn these things had a padlock! They won't zap me or anything, will they?"

"Shut up. Are you taking them off or not?"

"I'm going to take them off and burn those damn things."

"I'd rather you burn me, but do what you have to do."

"Oh, I'll burn you, all right."

Sharon shot a concerned look in the direction of Rusty's room before practically jumping onto the bed. Andy was right behind her and wasted no time covering her mouth with his. He knew just how to get her started. His hand drifted lower and worked with the same rhythm as his mouth. They were just about to _really_ get started when what had to be the curse of the flannel pants of doom intervened.

"Mooooom!" Rusty's voice drifted from his room.

Sharon bit down on Andy's tongue nearly hard enough to draw blood.

"Don't answer, he'll think you're still asleep," Andy pleaded. Nice. The second time in three days that he'd gotten his engine started with nowhere to go.

Sharon pulled away and quickly put her pajamas back on. In her haste, she unknowingly put her t-shirt back on backwards and inside-out. "He wouldn't call out for me this early unless he really needed me, Andy. Will you please see if Provenza will pick you up for work so you can bring Rusty's car home tonight? It's parked at PAB, and I don't want to leave him to take you." She rushed into Rusty's room and sat on his bed. "Honey, what's the matter?"

"My head hurts, like, bad. I've had a concussion before, and it didn't hurt this bad." He looked at Sharon with frightened eyes. "Something's, like, _bad_ wrong, Mom."

"I know, baby." Sharon smoothed her hand over his face and kissed his forehead. "Dr. Blakely's office opens at 8:00. That's an hour and a half from now. I'll call and see if she can fit you in this morning. If she can't see you until this afternoon, then I'm taking you to the hospital." She wanted to avoid that if at all possible, since she'd already taken Rusty to Dr. Blakely several times and he was comfortable with her, but she wasn't willing to wait much longer. She gave him more Advil and held him in her arms, with one hand holding a cold cloth to his forehead to soothe his headache.

Rusty shifted against Sharon to get more comfortable, and in doing so his cheek brushed against the tag of her t-shirt. He realized it was on wrong. _That_ was weird. Considering the slight flush to Sharon's cheeks and the fact that her hair seemed to be disheveled from something more than sleep, he wrinkled his nose. He'd never seen her like this, but he could only guess the culprit. " _Gross_ , Mom, it is 6:00 in the damn _morning_!"

"What? Oh!" Sharon noticed the state of her t-shirt. _Damn_ it. Rookie mistake. "I-"

"Stop, I don't want to know. You at least washed your hands, didn't you?"

"Stop being ridiculous, Rusty." _Her_ hands weren't the ones that needed to be washed. She hoped she'd diffused Rusty's suspicions, or that he wouldn't remember this. He lay limply against her with his eyes closed, but she could tell he wasn't asleep. Andy appeared in the doorway a little while later, dressed for work.

"Provenza will be here in a couple of minutes. Where are Rusty's keys?" Sharon stifled a laugh at how Andy's words sounded. She'd obviously hurt his tongue when she bit down on it.

'Sorry,' she mouthed.

Rusty opened his eyes and looked confused. "Why are you talking like- _God_ , Mom! Seriously! What were you-never mind."

Andy looked flustered. "What? I'm just...um, sleepy?"

Sharon rolled her eyes. Smooth.

"Come _on_ , you guys, I'm nauseous enough as it is without you two being disgusting."

Sharon put her hand on Rusty's cheek. "It's not what you think, Rusty, don't worry about it. Andy, just get my extra set of keys out of my desk when you get to work. We'll find Rusty's keys later." Rusty's irritability reminded her of something she'd read in one of the packets she'd gotten in the mail from UCLA's student health center about serious illnesses that tended to favor college campuses soon after he'd transferred. She couldn't remember exactly what it was, but she remembered sarcastically wondering why a health professional would bother listing _irritability_ as a symptom for whichever disease she'd been reading about. Who could tell the difference between irritability meaning illness or just another day for a college-aged kid?

A little while after Andy left for work, Rusty had finally fallen asleep again, but that didn't last long. He started gagging, but made no move to get up. Sharon grabbed the basin from his nightstand and held it in front of his face. When he was finished, she cleaned it out in the kitchen and got a damp cloth and glass of Ginger Ale. She wiped his face and helped him take a few sips, and she noticed that he was being careful to avoid moving his neck. That rang another bell with her, but she couldn't quite place it. Nausea, high fever, irritability, neck pain...That was one of those illnesses she'd read about, but which one? Mono? No. Emily'd had Mono the summer after her freshman year of college. This wasn't it.

"Rusty? Is your neck bothering you?" He didn't answer. Sharon put her hands on his cheeks and looked into his eyes. "Rusty! Talk to me. Does your neck hurt?" He remained silent, and his eyes looked empty. It was like he wasn't seeing her. "I'll be right back." Sharon went to the living room and dug through the bottom drawer of her desk, hoping she still had that packet from the student health center. Once she found it, she flipped through it for the section she was looking for. She was already quite familiar with the Mono symptoms that had put Emily to bed for almost two months, so she skipped over that one for the illnesses with which she was less familiar. It took less than a minute for it to hit her. Meningitis. Oh, shit, this wasn't good.

Sharon sat in a daze of denial for a few moments before springing into action. Anticipating Rusty being admitted to the hospital, she quickly threw together a bag of clothes and things for both of them, then put the bag, her work things, and her purse in the car before coming back to get Rusty. She picked through the clothes on his bedroom floor for the pants he wore the day before, praying that his wallet was in his pocket and not in his car. She knew she'd need his driver's license to check him in. She found it, so she fished his license out and went back to Rusty. He was awake, but still seemed out of it. Sharon pulled his covers back and smoothed her hand over his hot forehead. "Get up, honey, I'm taking you to the ER."


	4. Chapter 4

**Apologies for the short (and boring, I know) chapter, but I wanted to get these details out of the way. If I had kept going, then this chapter would have been entirely too long before I was able to find a stopping point. I'll update soon. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing!**

Rusty seemed to snap out of his daze when the dreaded hospital was mentioned. "Mom, please, nooooo," he whined.

"I know, honey, but...Hold on. Let me call Patrice. She'll be able to tell me whether I need to go ahead and take you." In her worried state, Sharon had forgotten that Patrice was a retired ER nurse. She found her phone and called her, praying she would answer. When Patrice picked up, Sharon explained what was going on.

"You're right, Sharon, that doesn't sound good. Do you mind if I switch us over to FaceTime?"

"Sure." Sharon went back to Rusty's room as her phone connected. Patrice's face soon appeared on the screen. Sharon sat beside Rusty so Patrice could see both of them.

"Hi, Rusty, I'm sorry you're not feeling well. This may sound odd, but I need for you to try to touch your chin to your chest for me."

Rusty gave her a weird look, but complied. Or tried to, anyway. "I can't, it hurts," he moaned.

Patrice sighed. "That's what I was afraid of. How long has it been hurting?"

"And _why_ didn't you tell me?!" Sharon demanded. "I'm sorry," she quickly apologized. "I'm just worried."

Rusty shrugged. "Don't know...My head hurts so bad, didn't really notice my neck hurt 'til Mom asked." He looked nervously from Sharon's phone screen to Sharon. "Wait, what do you guys think is wrong with me?" He seemed to have trouble getting his words out.

Patrice looked at Sharon, who nodded her approval. Rusty would probably take it more seriously if he heard it from Patrice than from Sharon. "You have classic symptoms of Meningitis. Your mom needs to take you to the ER. Sharon, are you okay with taking him to Cedars? I worked there for a long time before I moved to Southern Medical, and I still know a lot of the ER staff there. I can meet you there and help you."

"That would be great, Patrice, thanks so much. We're leaving here in the next five minutes. Or should I call an ambulance?"

"No, you need to take him, if you can get him to your car. That will be faster than waiting for an ambulance. He'll need a lumbar puncture and antibiotics immediately, and I'd rather you not wait for an ambulance. If you beat me there, be sure to tell the receptionist that he has symptoms of Meningitis. They should take him right back."

"Thanks, Patrice. I'll see if I can get him to the car. See you soon." Sharon turned to Rusty. "Come on, honey, I need for you to get up."

"Moooooom," Rusty groaned.

"Right now. Go use the bathroom while I change clothes, and then we need to go." She hadn't given that instruction to anyone since Ricky was four, but Rusty was clearly out of it. Sharon quickly changed into leggings and a tunic and slipped into some flat sandals. When she heard the toilet flush and the sink turn on, she grabbed some of Rusty's sandals out of his room and knocked on the bathroom door. "Come on, Rusty, we have to go. You can stay in your pajamas." Trying to get his clothes changed wasn't a battle she was willing to take the time to fight. She helped him step into his shoes, wrapped her arm around his waist, and helped him down to her car. He was unsteady on his feet, but Sharon was able to manage him fairly easily. She opened her passenger door, got Rusty settled, and buckled his seat belt for him. She spotted the trash bag from the day before, so she put it in his lap and patted his knee. "Just in case."

Sharon double-checked to make sure she had her health insurance card and drove to Cedars as quickly as safety allowed. A couple of minutes away from the hospital, she could tell Rusty was feeling even more nauseous than before. He was clutching his stomach and looked miserable. "You okay?" Rusty nodded uncertainly. "It's okay if you feel like you're going to get sick. Use the bag if you need to."

"Ughhhh..."

Sharon lightly squeezed his shoulder. "Hang in there. We're just a couple of minutes away." She luckily found a parking spot near the entrance, so she quickly parked and got out to help Rusty inside. After settling Rusty into a chair, trash bag in hand, she went to check him in. The apathetic woman who gave her forms to fill out and dismissed her pissed her off to high heaven. After arguing with her for a few minutes, she was about to ask for her supervisor when she heard Rusty weakly calling for her. She fixed the receptionist with one last glare before running to him. He had started throwing up again and was fumbling with the trash bag, but it was like he couldn't figure out what to do with it. Sharon grabbed the bag from him and held it open in front of him as he got sick. She had managed to find a somewhat secluded corner for him when they came in, but she noticed a couple of sympathetic looks being sent their way, and one saint of a woman brought her a few wet paper towels.

"Thank you so much." Sharon took the paper towels and gently wiped Rusty's face before helping him rinse his mouth out with a bottle of water from her purse. He'd gotten a little vomit on his sweatshirt, so she cleaned him up, threw everything away, including the contaminated water bottle, and washed her hands. She sat down beside Rusty and tried to concentrate on filling out the intake forms. He lay down on her shoulder and hugged himself, trying to get warm. He was freezing. Sharon wrapped an arm around him while she continued writing with her other hand.

"I'm scared, Mom," Rusty whispered.

Sharon kissed his forehead and held him a little more tightly. "I know, baby. We're going to find out what's wrong and get it fixed." She looked back at the reception window, and that godawful receptionist hadn't moved. "I'm not in the mood to make anyone cry today, but if Patrice isn't here in the next two minutes, I'm going to have to-oh, thank god." Patrice had just come into the waiting room and hurried over to them.

"How long have you guys been here?"

Sharon looked at her watch. "Almost ten minutes. The receptionist doesn't seem to see the urgency of the situation, and then Rusty started getting sick again before I could get anywhere with her."

Patrice looked over at the reception desk and rolled her eyes. "Ugh, Carol. She's terrible. I can't believe she still has a job here." She looked Rusty over, held her hand to his forehead, and checked his pulse. His hands were cold, and his lethargy worried her. "I'll go light a fire under Nurse Ratched's ass. There was a shift change not long ago, so it's probably a little crazy back there, but I'll make her find someone." Sharon watched Patrice approach the reception desk, relieved that she was there to take charge. She couldn't hear what Patrice was saying, but the receptionist jumped up and ran to the back like a bat out of hell. Patrice returned, looking satisfied. "It will be just one moment," she said, mocking the tone of the receptionist. "And, if so much as a moment and a half passes before someone comes, then Carol will have to deal with me. I can assure you, she's already well aware that dealing with me is the _last_ thing she wants to do." Patrice looked sympathetically at Rusty, who was now sleeping on Sharon's shoulder. She reached for the clipboard Sharon was trying to balance on her knees as she wrote. "Let me fill these out."

Sharon gratefully handed over the clipboard, pen, Rusty's license, and her insurance card. Now that she didn't have the forms to distract her, her mind went straight back to the potential gravity of the situation. "Patrice? What exactly are we dealing with, here? What's going to happen when they call him back?"

"They'll do a spinal tap, some blood tests, and possibly a urine test and CT scan. They'll be able to tell whether or not it's Meningitis fairly quickly, but it will take a couple of days for them to know for sure whether it's viral or bacterial. Based on the severity of his symptoms, they'll need to act under the assumption that it's bacterial and start him on antibiotics."

"Oh, my god, he's allergic to Penicillin." Sharon had found _that_ out the hard way. "Is that-"

"How severe was his reaction?"

"He had hives, and his face was swollen. I had to take him back to the doctor to make sure...I don't remember what she called it, but basically to make sure his throat wasn't swelling up."

"They may use a different kind of antibiotic, or they may start with Penicillin anyway, since his reaction the first time wasn't severe and the benefits would outweigh the risks. They can give him something to counteract an allergic reaction if they decide to stick with Penicillin." Patrice checked her watch. "This is ridiculous. I'm about to-"

"Russell Beck?"

"I'll finish these and come find you." Patrice scanned the rest of the form to see if she needed any more information from Sharon. "Does Rusty have any allergies besides Penicillin?"

"No. Not that he's aware of, anyway. Thanks, Patrice." Sharon gently woke Rusty and helped him to the nurse.

A few minutes later, Rusty had been examined and was squeezing Sharon's hand as his blood was being drawn. He was too weak for it to be much of a squeeze, though. Sharon jumped when her phone rang. It was Andy. _Shit_. She hadn't even thought to call him. Taking care of her children had been a solo activity for most of their lives, and it didn't come naturally to her to let someone else know what was going on when something happened to one of them.

"Hi, An-"

"Anything I should know?!" Andy demanded.

 _How_ did he know already? "Andy, I'm sorry. I was in such a rush to get him here, I didn't even think to call you. He-"

"But you thought to call Patrice?"

 _That's_ how he knew. Patrice must have told Provenza. "I called her so she could tell me what to _do_. I wanted to wait until his doctor's office opened, but he was getting worse, and it frightened me. I called Patrice to see what she thought I should do. She knows the staff here, so she met us here and she's helping me. Rusty's having tests done now, and they suspect Meningitis."

"Oh, my god. I'll come-"

"No, Andy. Patrice is with me, and you need to keep as much of your leave time as you can. I'll keep you updated, and I'll let you know when he's in a room. Until then, it will be too crowded with both of us here, and I'm not leaving him. He's terrified and confused."

"I guess you're right. And I'm sorry I snapped. I was just worried, and it was a little embarrassing to hear about this from Provenza and have no idea what he was talking about."

"I know, honey, I'm sorry. I'll talk to you soon."

"Okay. Let me know if you need anything. Love you."

"Love you." Sharon hung up and put her phone back in her purse.


	5. Chapter 5

**_Thanks so much for reading and reviewing! I can't believe my first fanfic was met with requests to write others (which I'm thinking about)! Y'all are amazing!_**

 **This chapter was inspired by _Cleared History_ and one of Mary McDonnell's Grey's Anatomy episodes.**

Sharon was relieved to hear Patrice talking to someone, whom she hoped was the doctor, in the hall. They'd been brought back less than ten minutes ago, but it had seemed like an eternity. Rusty seemed to tense up, though, and she shot him a concerned look. "What's the matter?"

"No-nothing," Rusty mumbled.

" _Rusty_."

"Fine. That man out there just, like, reminds me of, um...someone I've, uh, met before. It's not _him_ , but he sounds a lot like him."

"Are you positive it's not him?" Sharon had no idea whom _him_ was, but she guessed that whomever it was had to do with Rusty's time spent living in the streets, and she also knew that all kinds of people, even types she wouldn't expect, had approached him.

"Yeah, it's not him. The other guy had a different accent. Their voices just sound alike."

Sharon smoothed her hand over Rusty's forehead. "It sounds like that might be your doctor out there. Will you be all right, if it is?" Not that there was time to try do anything about it if he said no.

Rusty nodded uncertainly. "Think so."

Sharon's hand moved to his cheek. "I'll be right here with you, and you're safe with me. You know I won't let anything happen to you. Try to focus on that, okay?"

"'Kay. God, Mom, this blows."

"You're telling me."

Patrice came in then with a tall man who looked to be a little younger than Sharon. He introduced himself to Sharon and Rusty as Dr. Feldman before he examined Rusty and started asking him questions. Sharon held his hand and stroked her fingers along the back of it, trying to keep him calm from a distance where she was out of the doctor's way.

Patrice stood beside Sharon and handed her a cup of coffee. "I went by the nurse's station and got the good stuff."

" _Thank you_." Sharon gratefully accepted the cup.

"Patrice!" The nurse put Rusty's blood sample into a vault-like thing in the wall for a lab tech to pick up, walked over to Patrice, and gave her a hug. "I knew you had to be here somewhere when Carol came back here in a huff. You're the only one who's ever been able to do anything with her."

"Hi, Anne! It's great to see you!" Patrice rolled her eyes. "Carol clearly hasn't changed a bit. Sharon and I are friends, and she called me this morning after Rusty had been sick all night and was getting worse." Patrice lowered her voice. "So, what do you think?"

"It does look like Meningitis, but, I would say it's either a severe viral case or a mild bacterial case. I've definitely seen worse where the patient turned out fine, but you know as well as I do that anything can happen."

Patrice nodded. "I was thinking the same thing."

"I need to get back to Dr. Feldman. I just wanted to say hi."

"Thanks, Anne. I'm glad you're the one here with him." Patrice moved closer to Sharon, who had been oblivious to their conversation. "Dr. Feldman is one of the best infectious disease doctors in L.A.," Patrice whispered. "I worked with him a lot when I was here, and he's great. I explained to him that Rusty's had a difficult past and will need you with him. I wasn't specific, but he understood. He will ask you to leave while Anne helps him change into a gown, but that won't take long, and you can come right back. Has Anne given him something for the nausea?"

Sharon nodded. "He got sick in the waiting room right before you got here, and I'm sure it would have happened again soon, so she went ahead and got the approval to give him something as soon as we came back. Is it a problem for me to stay with him?"

"No. I know you'll be quiet and stay out of the way. The difficult parents are the reason we typically ask parents to leave, as well as for the patient's privacy, but exceptions are often made, especially in a case like this. It will be easier for both Rusty and Dr. Feldman if you're here to help him stay calm."

Dr. Feldman's assessment of Rusty didn't take long. "Okay, Rusty, Meningitis is a definite possibility, so we need to act quickly. There's no need to worry just yet, but the faster we get moving, the better. You're allergic to Penicillin, correct?"

Rusty had been squeezing Sharon's hand and trying to tune out the haunting familiarity of the doctor's voice. He had no idea what the doctor had just said, but he looked like he was expecting a response from him. Rusty looked helplessly at Sharon, who nodded slightly. "Yeah," Rusty mumbled.

"Okay. Bacterial Meningitis is the worst possibility, but it's treatable. It's going to be a while before I know for sure if that's what it is, so I need to proceed under that assumption until I find out otherwise. I'm going to do a lumbar puncture, during which I'll numb your lower back and insert a needle into your spine to collect cerebrospinal fluid. That will tell me whether you have Meningitis, and, if so, whether it's viral or bacterial. We'll start antibiotic therapy immediately after the lumbar puncture until I get some answers, okay?" Rusty nodded after looking at Sharon again for confirmation. "All right. Your mom and I are going to step out while Anne helps you into a gown."

Rusty's anxiety had been growing since the doctor came in, he was sick and confused, and the thought of Sharon leaving him for even a few minutes was too much for him. She was still the person he trusted the most and with whom he felt the most safe. Sharon squeezed his hand and kissed his forehead. "I'll be right back, okay?"

"Mom...Please...No," Rusty gasped.

Sharon noticed that Rusty was breathing more rapidly, and his eyes had a look to them that she hadn't seen in over a year, but she knew exactly what it meant. "Oh, god, he's having a panic attack." He'd only had a few since he'd lived with her, but it was enough for Sharon to know exactly how to calm him down. Her police officer training had helped with that, as well as her knowledge of how to comfort her son, in general. She sat beside him and wrapped her arms tightly around him as she spoke calmly and soothingly to him, hoping to calm him down before the attack became full-fledged. She wasn't successful, though, and he started struggling against her and gasping for breath. Dr. Feldman excused himself from the room, and Anne and Patrice stood silently out of Rusty's line of vision while Sharon calmed him down.

With Rusty being so weak, it didn't take Sharon as long as it usually did to get him to stop thrashing against her. She kept one arm wrapped tightly around him and pressed her other hand to his forehead as she continued speaking softly to him. When he was calm enough to follow instructions, Sharon placed his hand on her chest, just below her shoulder, and exaggerated her breathing, so he could feel and hear her slow breaths. "Try to breathe with me, honey. You're okay. You're safe with me." It took several minutes, but Rusty's breathing finally slowed down, and he slumped against Sharon when it was over.

Dr. Feldman returned soon after that and motioned for Anne to join him in the hall, not wanting to set Rusty off again. He'd decided it was best to give Rusty a sedative before the lumbar puncture, whether or not he calmed down by the time he got back with the materials he needed. Anne returned a few moments later. "Rusty, it is very important that you remain as still as possible for the procedure, so we'd like to give you a sedative. It will make you feel relaxed and drowsy, but it won't put you to sleep, although it's all right if you do fall asleep. You can stay awake if you want to, though. Your mom will still be right here with you. Is that okay with you?"

Rusty looked up at Sharon for guidance and nodded once she'd indicated her approval.

"Good. I'm going to give you a shot now, okay?" Anne wiped Rusty's upper arm with an alcohol swab and quickly administered the injection, then waited a few moments to allow it to start taking effect. "Now, can your mom leave for just a minute while I get you into a gown? It will just be you and me, and she'll come right back. You'll be covered up when she and the doctor come back in."

"Hmm kay," Rusty murmured drowsily.

Anne quickly lifted his shirt over his head, tied a gown on him, slid his pajama pants and underwear off of him, and wrapped a blanket completely around his bottom half so he'd feel securely covered. Dr. Feldman and Sharon came back in, and Patrice retreated to the waiting room. Anne positioned Rusty on his side, with his knees drawn up to his chest. Sharon sat beside him and held his hand as the doctor explained what was going to happen and gave instructions. He was drifting in and out of sleep, so Sharon ran her fingers through his hair and hummed softly throughout the procedure to keep him calm and still.

By lunchtime, Rusty had been moved to a room, and the first dose of antibiotics had been administered. Sharon had talked herself into not worrying until Rusty's test results started coming back. Patrice was still with them, and she didn't seem to be too worried, which also kept Sharon from worrying too much.

Although Sharon was still irritated with Andy for downplaying her concern about Rusty, she was thrilled to see him when he came by with lunch for her and Patrice. She started to kiss him, and Andy looked quizzically back at her when she pulled back. "Sorry. I just remembered that I didn't even brush my teeth this morning, and I've had coffee. I won't put you through that. Ugh, now all I can think about is going to get our bag out of my car so I can get my toothbrush."

"I'll go get the bag, but I'm not afraid of a little morning breath. If I can kiss you after you've eaten garlic, then I can handle this." Andy smiled wickedly before kissing Sharon and getting her keys so he could go get the bag. When he got back, Rusty was sleeping for the time being, and Sharon and Patrice were eating and talking. "How's the kid? Any news?"

Sharon swallowed and wiped her mouth. "Not yet. They're treating him for bacterial meningitis until the lab results come back. They won't know for certain whether that's what it is for a couple of days, but they can't wait that long to start treatment. He was a little dehydrated, but not so much that they had to give him fluids. They're just making him drink water every hour."

"You okay?" Andy looked Sharon over. She was eerily calm, given the situation.

Sharon shrugged. "The doctor said that bacterial Meningitis is serious, but he thinks it's a mild case and that we caught it before it can do much damage. They've already started antibiotics, he's being closely monitored, and a neurologist will be in to see him later this afternoon. That's all they can do until his lab results come back."

"What about you?"

Sharon looked confused. " _What_ about me? I'm trying not to think about it until I know more. If I let myself think about it too much, I'll end up frightening myself, and I don't want Rusty to pick up on that."

"I mean, you've practically been in his face since he got sick. Can they give you something to keep you from getting sick?"

"Oh. Dr. Feldman said that there's not much risk of me catching it, and that even if I did, the chances of it becoming Meningitis are small. The viruses and bacteria that cause it are common, and I've probably been exposed to them before. They don't cause Meningitis for most people. If Rusty's is bacterial, he'll probably offer a preventative antibiotic for me then, but I'm not worried about it."

Andy rolled his eyes. Of course she wasn't. He'd wait until they knew more to fight that battle, though.

"I've also had to keep Sharon off of the goo-oh, my god, _google_. Off of _google_ ," Patrice chimed in. "Nothing good comes from googling Meningitis. Most of the horror stories are a result of delayed treatment or a missed diagnosis, and neither of those are an issue. God, I can't believe I almost said _the google_."

"Hey, it happens to the best of us. Your husband's influence can't always be avoided, try as we might." Andy turned to Sharon. "Do you need anything from home?"

Sharon shook her head. "I don't think so. I'll let you know if I think of something."

"I'll wash those godawful pajama pants of yours tonight. They've appeared so much recently, you had to have been getting low."

Sharon looked at Andy suspiciously. "Okay, what do you want? Or what did you do?"

"I want for you to get all of the mileage out of them that you can while you're here." Andy knew that Sharon would be staying with Rusty until he was discharged. She had stayed with him when he was in the hospital after his heart attack, and he would have been miserable if she hadn't.

Sharon looked at her phone when it dinged with a text message. It was Gus, asking about Rusty. She hadn't even thought to tell him. He'd probably been texting Rusty, and his phone was in her purse, probably with no charge. Gus had been out of town for work until the day before, and he and Rusty hadn't seen each other in over a week, so she didn't have to worry about him being sick. "Oh, no, I forgot to tell Gus...UCLA will need to be notified, too. And Andrea..."

"I'll handle Hobbs, and the hospital will probably notify UCLA. I'll find out before I leave, and I'll take care of it if the hospital doesn't," Andy assured her.

"Thank you. I'll go call Gus and tell him what's going on." Sharon stepped into the hall to talk to him. When she came back in, Andy had thrown away the lunch trash and was gathering is things.

"I've got to get back before Patrice's husband is on my ass, but call me if anything changes, you need anything, or just want me to come back. I can handle her old man." He kissed Sharon again and told Patrice goodbye before he left. "I love you, and I'll be back tonight."

"Thanks, honey. Love you."


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks so much for the reviews! And especially to the reviewers who took care of the complainers, haha. I still can't, for the life of me, figure out where I've even insinuated that I'm "trying to break up Sharon and Andy." I'm not. Whether or not they'll stay together isn't a plot line of this story. They've been annoyed with each other, but that hardly even suggests that they might break up. But, if I did want to break them up, you couldn't change my mind. It's my story, and I'm the one taking the time to write it. This is a fictional story about fictional characters. You're going to be all right. When you figure out a way to write exactly what every fanfic reader wants, please let me know. Until then, "please don't" tell me what to do with my own story. K thanks :)**

 **P.S. I wasn't talking about fanfic requests. I loved those!**

Rusty slept on and off for the rest of the afternoon. His sedative had worn off, but he was still being given Compazine for nausea, which made him drowsy. During the brief periods that he was awake, Sharon was beside him to comfort him and assure him that he was okay. He was more alert now that he wasn't as dehydrated and had been given the corticosteroid. Patrice was still there, wanting to hear Rusty's preliminary test results before she left. Nurses were frequently in and out to monitor him, the neurologist had been in to examine him, and Dr. Feldman came in with results early that evening. "Hi, Sharon. Would you mind waking Rusty for me? I need to examine him, and I'm sure he'd rather wake up to you than me."

"Sure." Sharon sat beside Rusty and lightly tapped his cheek. "Wake up, Rusty."

"Mom?"

"Yes, honey. I'm right here. You need to wake up, now."

"Nooooo." Rusty turned away from her and pulled his covers over his face. Sharon made a mental note to ask Andy to bring his bed pillow and some blankets from home.

"Just for a few minutes. Dr. Feldman needs to examine you, okay? I'll stay right here with you."

Rusty groaned as Sharon helped him sit up. He slumped against her as much as he could while the doctor examined him. Dr. Feldman completed his examination and flipped through Rusty's chart. "Okay, Rusty, I have some test results to share with you, and then you can go back to sleep. We won't know anything definite for a couple of days, but the preliminary tests suggest that it's more likely that you have a bacterial strain of Meningitis rather than viral or fungal. While that's not what we were hoping for, the slow progression of your symptoms indicates that it's probably a mild case. Bacterial Meningitis can be dangerous, but I have every reason to believe that treatment was started in plenty of time to prevent that. The neurologist's report was good, and you haven't seemed to react to the antibiotics. You'll continue to be closely monitored until I get some definite answers. Any questions so far?" Rusty shook his head. He was lying against Sharon, trying to stay awake.

"How soon will you be able to tell if the antibiotics are working?" Sharon asked.

"The antibiotics won't work overnight, or at all if it's viral, but we'll keep a close eye on his symptoms. If it's bacterial, then he should start seeing some improvement in the next 24 hours or so. He's being given two broad-spectrum antibiotics that cover the most common bacterial causes of Meningitis and a corticosteroid to reduce the swelling in his brain. If his symptoms get worse and we still don't have lab results, then I may adjust his antibiotics. The neurologist also has her own signs to watch for which would indicate progression of the disease, so, if the current antibiotics aren't working, then we'll know in time to effectively administer another antibiotic. The chances of his current antibiotics not targeting the bacteria are small. That's the best we can do until I know which specific bacteria, if any, is causing it."

Sharon thought for a moment. "How will you be able to tell if he's getting worse, with his nausea and headache being controlled with medicine?"

"He's on the lowest doses needed to sufficiently treat those symptoms, so, if he does get worse, then the medicine won't mask it. He'll complain of a headache and feel sick to his stomach again. He's coherent and fairly alert, which is a great sign. Swelling around his brain is our main concern, and the fact that he's able to communicate with us and understand us indicates that the swelling isn't substantial. Like I said before, the neurologist will also watch for certain signs, and she'll know if he's getting worse. If that happens, then we'll know in time to act upon it in a timely manner." Dr. Feldman turned back to Rusty. "The good news is that we seem to have a bit of time on our side. We won't be any less diligent with your treatment, but we do have more leeway in this case than we normally would. Once I know which group of bacteria I need to target, I'll be able to adjust your antibiotics to treat the bacteria more specifically. You're in good hands, and, as far as I can tell, there's no need to worry yet. Any other questions?" Rusty shook his head, and Sharon remained silent. "Okay. My shift is almost over, and I'll continue to monitor the nurses' assessments, but I probably won't see you again until tomorrow. Dr. Lowenstein will be overseeing your treatment during the night shift, and he'll be in soon after shift change to meet you. If anything feels different, or if you start feeling worse at all, then make sure you tell your mom so she can alert a nurse, okay?" Rusty nodded against Sharon's shoulder, silently willing the doctor to leave. "Call for a nurse if you need to get out of bed, or if you need anything else. I'll be back in the morning."

Patrice got up to leave, as well. "Call me if you need me, and I'll check with you in the morning. Feel better, Rusty."

"Thanks so much, Patrice." Sharon squeezed her offered hand appreciatively. "I would have been a wreck without you here today."

As soon as Dr. Feldman and Patrice were gone, Rusty looked up at Sharon and gave her a panicked look. "Mom, I have to, uh..." he mumbled. He needed the toilet, but he couldn't bring himself to say it. He was grateful that the doctor had finally left and that Sharon was the only person he had to tell.

"What is it?" Sharon realized what the problem was when Rusty grimaced and shifted uncomfortably. "Oh, do you need to use the bathroom?" He nodded, wishing his bed would swallow him up. This shit was embarrassing as hell. "Why didn't you tell me while the doctor and Patrice were still in here?! It would have been easier-"

" _Now_ , Mom. Like _, bad."_

Sharon pressed the call button. "Can you wait for the nurse, or-"

" _Mom_!"

"Okay, okay. Come on, honey." Sharon helped Rusty out of bed and guided him to the bathroom. Since his antibiotics weren't being administered at the moment, the IV port in his arm wasn't connected to anything, so she didn't have to worry about getting him unhooked from anything first. He'd been allowed to put his pajama pants back on under his gown after his spinal tap, so that wasn't an issue, either. She led him to the toilet, but hesitated before she left him alone. He'd been wobbly during the short walk from his bed to the bathroom, and she wasn't sure if he would be able to stay balanced without help. "Can you, um, I mean, do I need to-"

"Mom, get _out_!"

"Okay. I'm going. Sorry. Call out if you need anything." Sharon quickly left the bathroom and closed the door. Elizabeth, one of the nurses, came in a couple of minutes later. "I'm sorry," Sharon apologized. She nodded toward the bathroom door. "I pressed the call button before I realized how badly he needed to go. He couldn't wait for you to get here. Was it okay for me to help him out of bed?"

Elizabeth smiled. "Yes, that's fine, but you were right to press the call button. Rusty's not too steady on his feet, and he might need some help before he comes back out. It's almost time for another dose of his antibiotic, anyway." A few minutes later, when the purpose of the bathroom visit was clear, Elizabeth knocked lightly on the bathroom door. "Rusty? There are some moist towelettes under the sink. It will be easier to use those than toilet paper, when you're ready." Sharon choked back a laugh when an irritated groan was heard from inside of the bathroom. Several minutes later, Elizabeth knocked on the door again. "Rusty? Are you okay?"

"Oh, my god, _yes_."

"Okay. Don't rush. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Let me know if you need anything."

"Away from the door?" Rusty asked, hopefully.

Elizabeth smiled. "Except for that."

Rusty came out a couple of minutes later, and mortification had added a little more redness to the fevered flush of his cheeks. He wouldn't look at Elizabeth or Sharon as Elizabeth helped him back into bed. She gave him an amused look as she checked his vitals. "Rusty, it's normal for you to have an upset stomach from your medicine alone, if not also from being sick, and I do this every day. Try not to be embarrassed. None of this fazes me."

"Still don't want an audience," Rusty muttered.

Sharon shot him a look. " _Rusty_."

Elizabeth laughed. "It's okay. I'd be cranky, too. Being the audience and being the subject of the audience are very different." She finished examining him and connected the third round of his antibiotics for the day to his IV port. "I'll be back in an hour to disconnect this, and some of the others and I will be in and out, but press the call button if you need anything." Rusty nodded, barely awake, as she left the room.

Sharon sat on Rusty's bed and felt his forehead. "How are you feeling?"

"Don't make me talk," Rusty whined.

"You could've used fewer words and answered my question," Sharon pointed out.

"Whatever. Like hell. Happy?"

"That you feel like hell? Not really." Sharon started to brush Rusty's bangs back from his forehead, like she did frequently when he wasn't feeling well, but there wasn't much there. Against her advice, he had switched hairdressers, and his new one had damn near scalped him at his last appointment. "Do you feel nauseous at all?" Rusty shook his head. "All right. Try to go to sleep. Are you warm enough?"

"I'm kind of cold."

Sharon tucked the covers more tightly around him and looked through the cabinets in his room until she found a blanket. She spread it over him and got back on his bed. "Better?"

"Mm hmm." Rusty curled up against Sharon, and she started humming softly and rubbing his back. Her gentle touch and familiar scent always made him feel a little better, and it didn't take long for him to fall asleep.

Andy arrived a little while later with dinner for himself and Sharon. Rusty was still sleeping against her, and she was reading on her phone, trying to resist the temptation to google the hell out of Meningitis. Andy kissed Sharon and pulled out the little table from the side of Rusty's bed so she could eat. He unpacked their food and got Sharon's situated for her.

"Thanks, Andy. I didn't realize how hungry I was."

"You're welcome. Any news?"

"The doctor thinks it's bacterial Meningitis, but he won't know for sure for a couple of days. If it is, then he thinks it's a mild strain and that we caught it in time to avoid any damage. He'll get intravenous antibiotics four times a day until his lab results come back, and they'll stop if it turns out to be viral, or they may need to adjust them, depending on the bacteria."

"So, there's nothing to worry about?"

"Not yet. He's not even in the ICU, and he's been talking and isn't as out of it as he was this morning. As long as he's in a regular room and can talk coherently to me, I'm not going to let myself worry."

Andy gave Sharon a knowing look. "Patrice, huh?"

Sharon smiled sheepishly. " _Yes_. My nerves would be shot by now if she hadn't been here today. She's definitely given me some perspective. He's drowsy and in a bit of a daze when he's awake, but he's speaking in full sentences." She looked fondly at Rusty as he slept against her. "As long as the antibiotics work, he should be fine. I'm still hoping his labs will come back and say it's viral, but I'm not nearly as afraid as I was."

Andy nodded. "I feel better about it too, then. I'm glad Patrice was here with you. I would've liked to be, but I wouldn't have been any good. I would have been even worse with 'the google' than you were." He also knew that Sharon needed some space from him. Partly because she was used to taking care of her children by herself and was comfortable with it, and partly because she was aggravated with him. He knew he needed to apologize, but now wasn't the time. He honestly hadn't thought that Rusty was that sick the night before, or even before he left for work this morning, and part of him had thought that she'd been using Rusty to avoid him. He knew that was crazy, but he hadn't been able to push that thought out of his mind. Now wasn't the time for the formal apology, though. Sharon was focused on the kid, and rightfully so. Now was the time to acknowledge that he'd been wrong without actually bringing up the subject, make sure she knew that he was there for her, and wait patiently for make-up sex.


	7. Chapter 7

**Thanks again for the reviews! Especially the ones that took the words out of my mouth, haha.**

Sharon and Andy ate dinner and talked for a while as Rusty drifted in and out of sleep. When Andy got ready to go, Rusty woke up and looked nervously at Sharon. "Mom? You're, like, staying with me, aren't you?" The thought of being so out of it with so many strangers around without Sharon being there terrified him.

Sharon leaned down and kissed his forehead. "Of course I am. I wouldn't even consider leaving you alone like this." Rusty nodded and went back to sleep. He'd barely been awake when he asked the question. Sharon was starting to worry about Andy being by himself overnight. He hadn't been alone at night since his heart attack, and she didn't like the thought of not being with him in case something happened. His doctor had said it was safe for him to be alone for extended periods of time, but she was still worried. "I wish you'd spend the night at Louie's and Patrice's," Sharon told him when he started to gather his things. "I don't like the thought of you being alone." Being so torn between her significant other and her child was definitely a first. Jack had never been around long enough for that to ever have been an issue with him.

"I'll be fine, honey. And do you honestly think I'd get any rest with them? They're like rabbits."

"Oh, my goooood! Andyyyyyyy!" Rusty whined from his bed. If his mind had to be so damn foggy, then why couldn't it be foggy enough for him to miss it when they were being disgusting? This shit wasn't fair. "Mo-om, where's that barf thing? I think I'm gonna need it."

Andy chuckled. "Sorry, kid. I thought you were asleep."

Rusty groaned. "I still _hear_ ," he grumbled.

"I'll keep that in mind. Speaking of which, cover your eyes while I tell your mother goodbye."

"Ugh, no problem." Rusty rolled over and pulled his covers over his head. "I can still hear. Keep it PG."

Andy laughed and kissed Sharon goodnight. "Love you. Need anything from home?"

Sharon nodded. "Would you mind bringing Rusty's bed pillow and a couple of his favorite blankets? He likes the brown one and-"

"I've got it covered. I'll come by around lunchtime tomorrow. I don't think visiting hours start until 10:00. Rusty? Anything else you want?"

"Yeah. You two to not be gross."

Andy grinned. "Sorry, kid, I can't help you there. Feel better." He turned back to Sharon. "My tongue still hurts, by the way."

"I am right _here_! _Mom_! Make it sto-op!"

Sharon laughed at the whiny, horrified lump under Rusty's blankets. "Thanks, Andy. _Call_ _me_ if-"

"I'll be fine, Sharon. Don't worry."

"I know. Love you."

A little while after Andy was gone, Caroline, Rusty's night shift nurse, came in to give him his last dose of his antibiotic for the day and another dose of anti-nausea medicine. Once that was complete, she took his vitals and helped him get ready for bed. "I'll be in here to monitor you a good bit tonight, and I'll have to wake you up a few times. If you need to get up during the night when I'm not in here, either press the call button or wake your mom. You don't need to be out of bed without someone with you."

"I can _walk_ ," Rusty grumbled.

Sharon gave him a look. " _Rusty_!"

Rusty rolled his eyes. "Fine. Whatever. Sorry."

Caroline gave him a warm smile. "I know it's annoying, but your medicine may make you disoriented. Humor me, okay?"

Sharon gave Rusty another look. "He will. I can assure you."

"Mom likes rules," Rusty mumbled.

"Good. So do I," Caroline answered. "Has Dr. Lowenstein been in yet?"

Sharon had to think for a moment. There had been several different people in and out of the room for much of the evening. "Yes, he has." She remembered him coming in soon before Andy arrived.

"Okay. Everything looks good, and we'll keep a close eye on you to make sure it stays that way. Do you need anything?" Rusty shook his head. "All right. Call for me if you need me."

"Mmmph."

"That was 'thank you' in grumpy-Rusty-speak," Sharon said, apologetically.

"Don't worry. I'm fluent in grumpy-speak." Caroline made a few notes on Rusty's chart. "I think we have some cots available. If not, I'm afraid you'll have to sleep in the chair. It pulls out and reclines, and I can doctor it up a little to make it more comfortable. It's really not too bad."

"Thanks. I think I could fall asleep on the floor right now, though." After being up and down with Rusty all night the night before and not getting a break all day, Sharon was exhausted.

"You're welcome. I'll be back soon." Once Caroline was gone, Sharon got her pajamas and started for the bathroom.

"Mom? Where're you going?"

Sharon turned around and looked at Rusty. He looked so small and helpless, and it was unnerving to see him so frightened. "I'm just putting my pajamas on, honey. I'll be right back." Sharon quickly got ready for bed and went back to Rusty. "How are you feeling?"

"Weird."

Sharon tilted her head. "How so?"

"Don't know. Just ugh. That medicine's no joke."

"I'm sorry you're feeling so bad." Sharon sat beside Rusty and held him close to her. She remembered, sadly, how surprised he'd been when she'd comforted him the first time he was sick with her. She'd been cautious about it at first, being torn between respecting his boundaries and wanting him to know she cared for him and would comfort him if he wanted her to, but he'd given in to her mothering surprisingly quickly and seemed to enjoy it.

"Glad you're here," Rusty mumbled, as he got comfortable against Sharon. He shivered slightly when he felt her cool hand on his forehead.

Sharon adjusted Rusty's blankets and held him more tightly when he shivered against her. "I'm not going anywhere, honey. Wake me up if you wake up at all tonight. Even if you don't need anything. I don't want you awake and by yourself."

"Mm-hmm."

"I'll be right beside you, even if there are no cots and I have to drag that ugly chair a little closer."

"Mo-om, lemme sleeeep!"

Sharon's hand went back to his forehead, knowing it calmed him when she did that. "All right. Goodnight, honey. I love you."

"Love you, Mom."

Soon after Rusty fell asleep, an orderly came in with a made-up cot and a couple of extra blankets. Sharon eased herself off of the bed, positioned the cot right beside the bed, and turned the overhead light off, being sure to leave the lamp behind the bed on. She all but collapsed into the cot. Despite being so tired, she slept fitfully, waking each time someone came in to check on Rusty. The fifth time she woke up, his bed was empty. The bathroom light was on, and she could hear him getting sick. Her body protested when she tore herself off of the cot, but she couldn't leave him alone like this. She pressed the call button and made her way to the bathroom. She was annoyed that he hadn't woken her, but that mystery was solved when she stepped in a bit of vomit near the bathroom door. There clearly hadn't been time for that. She hobbled the rest of the way to the bathroom, trying to avoid tracking vomit across the floor. Sharon squinted against the bright light of the bathroom as she dampened a cloth with lukewarm water and knelt beside Rusty. She was patting his back and gently wiping his face before she'd even thought about what she was doing.

Caroline found them a couple of minutes later. "Oh, Rusty." She gave his back a sympathetic pat and got some cleaning supplies from a cabinet, as she'd also found the evidence that he hadn't quite made it to the toilet.

"Sorry," Sharon whispered, nodding at the supplies in Caroline's hands.

"It's okay, this happens all the time. My vomit radar kicked in quickly enough to avoid stepping in it."

Sharon grimaced as she remembered the vomit that was still on the bottom of her foot. "Yeah, well, I wasn't so lucky."

Caroline smiled and gave Rusty a sympathetic look. "I'm going to let Dr. Lowenstein know he's been sick. He'll probably want to examine him." Sharon's eyes widened, as she was just now remembering what this could mean. "He's on two strong antibiotics, so that's probably why he's sick," Caroline quickly explained. "He's had a recent dose of anti-nausea medicine, but it probably wasn't enough to cover this, too. We need to make sure, though. The fact that he woke up in time to get in here-well, mostly, anyway-is a good sign. His mental state is the best indicator of how he's doing. If he's getting worse, then you'll be able to tell by how he's acting."

When Rusty's stomach finally calmed down, he leaned against Sharon and closed his eyes. The floor was freezing, but he didn't have the energy to get up. Or to even flush the toilet. He felt Sharon maneuver against his weight and heard the toilet flush, then felt her wipe his mouth with a wet cloth. It always felt amazing when she did that. "Okay, Rusty, as comfortable as this looks, you can't sleep on the floor," he heard Caroline say. He hadn't even realized she was there. She helped him rinse his mouth out and supported him as he got off of the floor.

Sharon stayed behind to wash off her foot as Caroline led Rusty back to bed. "I'll be right there," she assured him. She squirted some soap into the bathtub and ran a little bit of water, wiping off her foot as she waited. Once there was enough water, she turned it off and squished her foot around in the suds, making sure she didn't leave any remnants of vomit. Once her foot was dry and the water was draining, she went back into the room, where Caroline was asking Rusty questions to make sure he was sufficiently coherent. Dr. Lowenstein came in a few minutes later and assured Sharon and Rusty that he still seemed to be doing okay, but that they would keep an even closer eye on him for the next several hours.

When the first rays of sunlight started peeking through the curtains on Saturday morning, Sharon gave up on sleep. She'd dozed on and off, but hadn't been able to fall deeply asleep. She was exhausted, she just couldn't turn her mind off. Rusty hadn't been sick again, but she hadn't been able to keep herself from worrying about him. Feeling grimy, she got some clean clothes from her bag, quietly crossed the room to the bathroom, and quickly took a shower, hoping Rusty wouldn't wake up while she was gone. She felt a little better once she was clean and dressed, but she needed coffee. Caroline came in before she made it out the door. Sharon greeted her and told her she was going to get some coffee.

"If you don't mind waiting a few minutes, I'll get you some from the nurse's station," Caroline offered. "The machine coffee isn't bad, but ours is better."

Sharon nodded appreciatively. "Thanks." She made up her cot and pushed it out of the way. She knew Caroline was going to wake Rusty up, so she sat on the other side of his bed and held his hand. Once Caroline was satisfied and Rusty was sleeping again, Sharon sat in the chair beside his bed. Her self-control to keep herself off of google was gone, so she pulled out her phone. She knew that freaking herself out wouldn't help anything, but she wanted to know everything she could. Caroline came back a few minutes later with a large travel mug of coffee. Sharon had expected a styrofoam cup. "Where did-oh, my god!" Sharon couldn't contain her laughter when she saw that 'Viagra' was scrawled across the mug in large letters.

"A drug rep accidentally left this for us several years ago when he was here pushing a different drug," Caroline explained. "We don't get things like this from drug reps anymore, so we hoarded the good stuff. This one was the first one I could find. It's actually my favorite. It will probably last you for most of the morning. I just wouldn't dare use it outside of the hospital, where people don't understand where it came from!"

Sharon examined the mug and pressed her hands around its warmth. "Thank you." Another giggle escaped. "This is hilarious." She took a few sips of coffee and turned her attention back to her phone when Caroline left the room. As soon as the hour was decent, she texted Patrice with a couple of questions she'd come up with in the last couple of hours. She tried to disguise the fact that they were inspired by google, but Patrice's response let her know that she'd failed miserably. _For the love of god, Sharon, if you don't stay off of google, I'm going to come take your damn phone away from you_. Sharon chuckled. The text brought her back to reality. They texted back and forth a few more times and stopped after Patrice promised to visit that afternoon.

As the morning went on, texts from Gus, Andrea, and the rest of the team started coming in. Sharon didn't have much to tell them, as nothing had changed, but she supposed that was a good thing. Rusty was in and out of sleep, but he was coherent when he was awake. After hearing a panicked 'Mom' from him the first couple of times he woke up, Sharon moved from the chair to his bed. It was a tight squeeze, but she could make it work. Once she was situated, she brushed her hand over his forehead, pausing on the scar from where Philip Stroh had hit him with a shovel the night Rusty saw him burying women in the park. It was tiny and faded, and she would never have noticed it if she hadn't already known it was there. She hummed softly as she went through the papers in her lap, so Rusty would know she was there. She'd busied herself with paperwork from the most recent case, which helped distract her from worrying. Not completely, though. By the time Andy arrived at lunchtime, her thoughts had shifted from what might happen in the current situation to what might have happened if she hadn't realized how sick Rusty was quickly enough to reverse it. Things could've been very different if she hadn't been with him the morning before.

Andy put down the lunch he'd bought and the things he'd brought from home and kissed Sharon. Rusty was pressed into her side, still sleeping, and he half-expected him to sit up and start whining in protest about them being 'gross.' He looked Sharon over. Her hair was sloppily pulled back, she hadn't put any makeup on, which was unusual for this time of day, even if she had no plans to leave home, and she was pale and seemed tired. "You okay?"

"Fine," Sharon answered, trying not to feel annoyed. "Just didn't sleep well. Will you hand me one of the blankets you brought? I'll wait until he wakes up to give him his pillow."

"Sure." Andy gave her the brown one and watched as she tucked it around Rusty's shoulders and under his chin. She pressed her hand to his forehead and let out a concerned hum, obviously not liking what she felt. Now that Andy wasn't annoyed and thinking she was using the kid to avoid him, he realized how damn hot it was to see Sharon's motherly side in action. He chuckled to himself. Rusty would lose his shit if he knew what Andy was thinking right now. He pushed the 'hot' thoughts away and studied Sharon again. She looked exhausted. "Do you want to try to take a nap?"

Sharon shook her head. "I don't think I can. I can't stop thinking about what might have happened if I hadn't stayed home with him yesterday morning. There are some sad stories out there, where people's symptoms progressed too quickly for them to be able to do anything about it, or where they just thought they had a stomach virus, and it was too late for treatment to do any good by the time they realized they needed medical attention."

Andy understood and had been feeling guilty, himself. "I've been thinking about that, too, and I'm glad you were there. He'll be okay, but I certainly wasn't helpful. I honestly didn't think he was this sick."

Sharon nodded. She was still irritated with Andy about that, but he honestly didn't know. She didn't even know for sure until after he'd left for work the morning before. "I know. But some people I read about only had symptoms for _hours_ before..." She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. "Rusty's symptoms obviously didn't progress that quickly, thank god, but how does that _happen_?"

Andy shrugged. "I'm no doctor, but Meningitis probably affects different people in different ways. Rusty has obviously been lucky, for which I am beyond grateful. It sounds like you got him here in plenty of time, and that's all you can do."

"But what if I hadn't?! What if we'd had a case, and I wasn't home enough to know how sick he was? Or what if I'd just assumed it was a stomach bug and left him at home by himself yesterday morning? He was so out of it, and he probably wouldn't have had the presence of mind to call me when he got worse."

"Sharon, please. You never leave him alone when he's sick. Even if you had for some reason, you would have kept close enough tabs on him to know that something was really wrong. Even if we had been swamped at work, you wouldn't have let that stop you from taking great care of him. You never have, before." Andy gave Sharon an innocent look. "Your hovering game is _far_ too strong for delayed treatment to ever be a problem."

Sharon wanted to be angry with Andy for downplaying her concern at first, but he was frustratingly skilled at honing in on her weaknesses and then making her laugh when she wanted to be pissed off. The fact that he was wearing suspenders today didn't help anything, either. That had probably been a calculated decision on his part, but they served their intended purpose. The thought of tearing them off of him and doing dirty things with them occupied too much of her mind for her to think about being angry. Andy didn't need to know that, though. "I do not _hover_ ," Sharon scoffed.

"Hey, who said hovering was a bad thing? I think it's pretty hot." Andy handed Sharon her lunch and pulled the table around the bed. She had discarded the empty coffee mug there and forgotten about it. "What the...You trying to tell me something?!"

Sharon laughed. "God, I forgot about that. Rusty's nurse gave it to me this morning, filled with coffee. A drug rep gave it to them a few years ago."

" _That's_ a relief." Andy picked it up and studied it before putting it back on the table. "It's actually pretty nice. It's so _big_."

Rusty woke up at the most inopportune time. The words 'it's so big' coincided disgustingly with the sight of the coffee mug bearing the word 'Viagra.' "Ugh, please tell me I'm hallucinating."

Sharon turned to Rusty when she realized he was awake. "What?"

"Surely, that mug doesn't say what I think it says," Rusty groaned. "Or I misunderstood Andy."

Sharon laughed again. "A pharmaceutical rep left this with the hospital a few years ago. Caroline brought me some coffee this morning, and this was the first thing she found to put it in."

"Tell her to look harder," Rusty grumbled. "That's just wrong...Ewwwwww, you _drank_ out of that?!"

Sharon rolled her eyes. "You're right, Andy. He's going to be just fine." She quickly ate her lunch and dozed off, still holding Rusty, who was sleeping against her again. Andy covered her with another blanket, pressed a kiss to her forehead, and settled in the chair beside the bed with a book.

 **Yes, there's mention of Sharon and Andy being annoyed with each other again, but I'm still not "trying to break them up." Just because they haven't been up each other's asses the whole time doesn't mean they're breaking up. It means that real life isn't a fairy tale, and couples get annoyed with each other without breaking up. Also, once again, it's freaking fanfiction. It will be all right :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Oh, guest reviewer who found it necessary to tell me I'm not funny, I don't recall suggesting otherwise. Thanks, though, I guess? I purposefully don't moderate guest reviews, so everyone else can be entertained as well, haha.**

 **For the rest of you, thanks for the continued support! I apologize for the confusion with having to re-add the story. And for the awkward chapter endings and slow plot-I'm trying to focus on conversation and details, and that uses up some wordage.**

 _Still Saturday afternoon_

When Sharon woke up again, Andy was gone. From the side of the bed, anyway. His phone and keys were still there. She vaguely remembered a couple of people coming in to examine Rusty, but she hadn't been alert enough to decipher whom did what. The time on her phone told her that she'd been asleep for almost three hours. She heard the toilet flush, which solved the mystery of Andy's whereabouts. And clued her in to a rather urgent need of her own. That must've been what had woken her up. The sound of the sink running didn't help anything. Giving birth to two children hadn't been particularly kind to her bladder, and she'd noticed in the last few years that menopause had screwed with it even more. She sat up, ready to bolt to the bathroom when Andy came out. What the hell was he _doing_ in there, writing a book?! Now was _not_ the time for him to be a diva and wash his hands for five damn minutes. That habit was annoying enough when her bladder _wasn't_ threatening to explode. This wasn't a need she cared to announce to anyone else, but, _God_ , she had to go. This had to be the Viagra mug's fault. That thing was huge. Luckily, in the past, a leak or two here and there had been the worst of the problem, but, if Andy didn't hurry the hell up, then today might be a different story. She was about to get up and bang on the door when the sink miraculously turned off and Andy stepped out.

"Oh, you're awake!"

Sharon nodded and moved toward the bathroom door, trying to walk normally. "Yeah, I was tired. Give me a minute, and I'll be right out." She hadn't been awake long enough to know what variety of toileting had just taken place, but waiting a few minutes, just in case, wasn't an option this time. She was going to have to risk it. Her eyes hadn't started watering by the time she'd gone through the door, so she was safe. As soon as the bathroom door was closed, she made her way to the toilet in a posture she hadn't seen since Ricky was three and they'd gotten stuck in traffic for over two hours. He'd mercifully fallen asleep for most of the car ride, but he had woken up less than five minutes from their house, crying from having to go so bad. He'd made it home, and Sharon had hastily lifted him out of the car and given him permission to water the grass, which only happened in true emergencies, but the poor child hadn't made it two steps before soaking himself in the driveway. LA traffic wasn't exactly toddler bladder-friendly. At least that casualty had happened outside of the car, which wasn't always the case. _I can relate, kid,_ Sharon thought amusedly, once she'd (mostly) made it to the toilet. Her pants were unscathed, but her panties were a little damp.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were waiting for me," Andy apologized as Sharon emerged from the bathroom.

"I wasn't," Sharon lied through her teeth. "I just wanted to go ahead and go before Rusty woke up again." _No, I'm not currently going commando, and that damp pair of panties stashed in the back corner of the bathroom cabinet was there when we got here._ With Rusty still sleeping, she was able to give Andy a proper kiss, although she kept it short in case someone came in. In an attempt to get him out of the room long enough for her to rinse her panties out and figure out what to do with them, she dug through her purse for some money. She _was_ thirsty, and she hoped Andy would volunteer to find a vending machine or go down to the gift shop for a bottle of water.

"What do you need?" Andy asked, seeing Sharon pull some money out of her wallet.

"Water. I'm thirsty."

"I'll go find something."

 _Perfect_ , Sharon thought as Andy left the room. She rinsed out her panties and looked thoughtfully around the room. They needed to dry so they wouldn't end up smelling sour, but where could she put them? The closet in the room was empty, so she laid them flat on the top shelf and put her bag in front of them to hide them from view should someone open the door for some reason. Crisis averted, she settled back on Rusty's bed. "Mom," he mumbled, gravitating toward her again as she got comfortable. He stirred for a few moments before appearing to be unconscious again.

"I'm right here," Sharon soothed. She jumped a few minutes later when her phone went off beside the bed. Emily was FaceTiming her. _Damn it._ She hadn't said a word about what was going on to her or Ricky. They usually FaceTimed around this time on Saturdays, and Emily wouldn't take kindly to being stood up. Sharon answered the call and braced herself for Emily's questions. "Hi, sweetheart."

"Hi, Mom...Where the hell are you?!"

Sharon sighed. "Rusty got really sick yesterday morning and ended up being admitted to the hospital. His doctor is pretty sure it's Meningitis, but we won't know for sure until sometime tomorrow."

"Mom! Is it like, um..." Emily trailed off. She didn't know much about Meningitis, but she knew it could be bad. Her mom seemed pretty calm, though.

"It's not severe. He's been lucky that it didn't progress too quickly. He's on antibiotics, in case it's bacterial, but we don't know anything definite yet," Sharon answered. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you guys. I even forgot to tell Andy. Rusty was sick enough for me to stay home with him yesterday morning, but I didn't realize how bad it was until after Andy had left for work. Patrice used to be an ER nurse, so I called her to see what I should do. She naturally told Provenza, who told Andy before I even thought to tell him."

Emily smirked. "If it were possible for him to ever get pissed at you, I'm sure he would have."

"He is perfectly capable of getting pissed at me, young lady, I just never do anything to warrant it."

Emily rolled her eyes. "Uh-huh. How's the little brother?"

"See for yourself." Sharon turned the phone so Emily could see Rusty passed out against her. "He should be okay. The medicine makes him sleepy, obviously, but that's what he needs."

"Well, tell him he's not allowed to croak. I finally have an ally against Ricky. He can't leave now."

"Emily Marie Raydor!"

Emily smiled. "What, too soon?"

"Whyyyyy are you being louuuuud?!" Rusty whined, clearly not happy about being woken up. He buried his face into Sharon's arm to shield his eyes from what little light was present in the mostly-dark room.

"Sorry, honey. How are you feeling?" Sharon held her hand to his forehead and shifted to get more comfortable now that he was awake. He still felt hot, but she knew that was to be expected and tried not to worry.

"You know someone comes in here, like, every two seconds with a thermometer."

Sharon gave Emily a look. "Nice, Emily. See what you've done?"

Emily gave Sharon an innocent look through the screen. "What? You were the one being loud, not me." Her gaze shifted to Rusty. "Nice work, baby brother, that was almost Ricky-caliber whining. Pretty impressive."

"The bar's been raised," Rusty mumbled. "You haven't seen Andy with a cold. He makes Ricky look tough."

Emily's eyes widened. "No way. It can't be done."

"What can't be done?" Andy came into the room and gave Sharon her bottle of water. "Hi, Emily."

"Nothing," everyone else responded in unison.

Emily couldn't contain herself. "So, Andy, I hear you've had a pretty rough cold recently."

Andy groaned. "How did _that_ come up?!"

Emily shrugged. "Well, the subject of whining came up, and I was informed that there's a new champ in the family. I didn't think the day would ever come, but I commend you. Ricky's a pro."

Andy looked at Sharon. "Are you kidding me? Three days ago, Rusty was at least ahead of me."

"Or so she told you," Rusty murmured.

"I didn't participate in this," Sharon defended herself. "That was all Rotten Child One and Rotten Child Three."

"Those designations better be specific to birth order. Or added-to-the-family order," Emily spoke up.

Sharon smiled patronizingly. "Of course, sweetheart. We need to go, but will you please call Ricky and tell him what's going on? I don't know any more than what I've already told you, but I should be able to tell you more tomorrow. The doctors think he'll be okay, though."

"Sure, Mom. Love you. Feel better, baby brother. I'll send you a bell to ring for Mom when you need something once you're home."

Sharon glowered at Emily. "You wouldn't dare."

"Nah. Just because there's no need. You'll undoubtedly be in full-scale hovering mode."

Andy almost choked on his own laughter. "Smart kid you've got, there."

"That's enough, you two. _Goodbye_ , Emily. Love you." Sharon ended the call and put down her phone.

 **MCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMC**

 _Sorry for the awkward time jump, I'm just trying to get this moving a little bit._

Late Sunday afternoon, Dr. Feldman came in with Rusty's lab results. Andy had left to get dinner for himself and Sharon. Rusty had been able to eat just enough in the last couple of days to avoid receiving nutrients intravenously. The threat of needles was always enough to get him to eat some. Dr. Feldman gently examined Rusty and cut right to the chase. "Okay. The bad news is that this strain of Meningitis is bacterial, as I feared, but the good news is that we've been using the proper antibiotics to treat it. A lab tech will be in soon to draw some blood so we can make sure the numbers are moving in the right direction. Your symptoms have slightly improved, which is great news. We'll continue to monitor you closely, but I'm confident that you will have a full recovery."

"What about Sharon?" Andy asked, as he had come in the room near the end of the doctor's spiel. "She's practically been in the kid's face since he got sick."

"This particular strain isn't highly contagious. If it were a different strain, Sharon had a compromised immune system, or if she'd developed even mild symptoms, then I would have encouraged her to take an antibiotic, but, otherwise, it's most likely not necessary," Dr. Feldman answered. "Rusty's no longer contagious, and the incubation period for this strain is only one to three days. She's probably in the clear, but, even if she were infected with the bacteria, there's only a small chance that it would actually cause Meningitis. It's a fairly common bacteria and usually presents itself as a sinus infection or an ear infection."

Sharon tilted her head. "Then why did it cause Meningitis for Rusty? He's healthy. Or he was, anyway."

Dr. Feldman sighed. "That's what I don't know. Once he's back on his feet, I recommend making an appointment with his primary care physician for a physical. Meningitis sometimes occurs in patients with absolutely no risk factors, and we don't know why, but one thing that _can_ be done is to make sure his immune system is functioning properly. For now, though, we'll concentrate on getting him well."

Sharon nodded. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. If I have to see someone suffer from Meningitis, then this is the kind of case I like to see. I'll be back in the morning." Dr. Feldman returned Rusty's chart to its rightful place and left the room.


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry for the short chapter, but I've had a bit of writer's block. I've been re-watching episodes of The Closer, and I'd completely forgotten about the one where Andy uses the term "dropped the kids off at the pool" in the episode with Provenza's ex-wife's dog. I thought it was hilarious and had to incorporate it. On that note, if you're a prude, then you might want to skip this chapter :).**

 **Also, to the reviewer who commented that I was "bragging about the number of reviews" in my initial description of the story after I accidentally deleted it and had to repost it, that's not what I was doing. I can't remember exactly what I said, because I changed it again after posting a new chapter, but I was saying that I hated that I lost the reviews because people took the time to review. This is my first story, and I have no idea what amount of reviews is normal, so, I can assure you, I was not "bragging" about the quantity. I'm really sorry that it came across that way, and I hope no one else thought the same thing.**

 **Thanks to everyone who has read/reviewed/followed/favorited!**

On Monday morning, Andy stopped by the hospital before work to drop off some clean clothes and things for Sharon and Rusty. Visiting hours didn't start until 10:00, but Andy had learned the day before that he could come earlier if he checked in with security first and got approval from Rusty's nurse. He slipped quietly into Rusty's room, not wanting to wake them if they were still sleeping. Sharon's cot was empty, and Rusty was sitting up and looking through his phone. "Hey, kid. You're up early."

Rusty looked up at Andy. "Yeah, Bruce was just in here...New nurse," he clarified, seeing Andy's confusion. He'd just gotten a steroid shot, so he'd be more alert than he had been until the next anti-nausea dose.

"Gotcha...So, uh, you feelin' okay?" Andy was nervous with Sharon not there and didn't know what to say, but he thought he should probably ask about Rusty before asking where she was.

Rusty shrugged. "Could be worse, I guess." He liked Andy and was comfortable with him, but being so sick in front of him was new, and he didn't like being so vulnerable around anyone besides Sharon.

An awkward silence followed, and after a few more minutes, Andy couldn't take it much longer. "Where's your mom?"

Rusty grinned, a little more comfortable now that there was an opportunity for the conversation to go somewhere. "In the bathroom, did you not hear the sink water running when you came in?"

Andy nodded knowingly. "Ahhh...Dropping the kids off at the pool, huh? I wasn't paying attention, I don't know if I heard it or not."

Sharon emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later. A brief look of panic crossed her face. "Andy! How did you get in here so early?!" _Crap, how long has he been here?!_

"Well, Good Morning to you, too. I just had to check in with security and get approval from a nurse. I wanted to drop these things off for you guys before I went to work."

"Thank you. I'm sorry, I just wasn't expecting you."

"I know. I'm going to use the restroom, myself, and then I need to get going."

"Andy, wait!" Sharon's cheeks were flaming, and she looked panicked again. "Could you, um, just wait a few minutes? Or just use the one downstairs?" She pleaded.

Andy smirked. "No Febreze in there, huh? I'm surprised you didn't ask me to bring some from home." Sharon had a ridiculous habit of smothering the bathroom with Febreze after every kid drop-off.

"Andy, please!"

Andy gave her a kiss. "Don't worry about it, Sharon. I love you and both your literal and figurative kids. Besides, I've been bringing you most of your meals. As long as you haven't sneaked in some Chinese, I'll risk it. There's not enough Febreze in the _world_ to cover _that_ up."

Sharon's face flushed an even deeper red. " _What_ -"

"Please, Chinese food is nothing," Rusty scoffed. "I had to ban her from Indian food."

Sharon glowered at Rusty. "You didn't ban me! It made you sick that one time we got it, and... _didn't_ it?!"

Rusty bit back a smile. "If anything made me sick, it wasn't the Indian food. It was what you did to the bathroom the next morning." Andy laughed helplessly, which seemed to encourage Rusty. "The only thing worse than 'something crawled in there and died' is 'something crawled in there and died with a hint of Mountain Fresh.' There was _nothing_ Mountain Fresh about that."

"The Febreze stays within arm's reach of the toilet for a reason, you know. At least I have the courtesy to _use_ it, which is more than I can say for the two of you!"

"Sorry, Mom, but the guy should know never to bring Indian food home. I'm just looking out for his health. The state of the bathroom almost gave _me_ a heart attack. I hope you went to confession that morning after Mass for attempted murder of your son!"

Sharon glared at Rusty. " _No_ , but I can't make any promises about later today. And I seem to remember allowing you to stay home from school that Monday, because your stomach still 'felt like crap,' young man."

Rusty started to feel bad for embarrassing Sharon, but then he could tell she was struggling not to laugh. He dramatically lay down and closed his eyes. "Shh, Mom, I'm sick. I need my rest."

" _Not talking_ would be a start," Sharon retorted.

"Mm-hmm." Rusty rolled over, and when Sharon didn't start scratching his back, he looked at her over his shoulder and tapped his back with two fingers.

Sharon raised an eyebrow. "Maybe you should've thought about that before making fun of your mother!"

"But Mo-om, I don't feel good," Rusty whined, giving her his best pout.

"You are a _rotten_ child." Sharon sat on Rusty's bed and dutifully ran her fingernails up and down his back.

"Whose fault is that?" Rusty murmured as he got comfortable against Sharon.

"If you two could take turns being infuriating, that would be great. I can't handle you both at once," Sharon moaned.

"Well, it's time for me to go, anyway. I'll go be infuriating at work." Andy grinned as he got up and choked back a laugh. "Maybe I can bring some Indian food for lunch as a peace offering?"

"Don't even joke about that, Andy," Rusty groaned. "It's still too soon."

Andy feigned innocence. "Who's joking? I probably won't be here for the aftermath." He had a new plan to stay just enough in the doghouse to where he could easily get back out when the time came. Make-up sex and reunion sex at the same time? He couldn't even fathom it.

Rusty tried to look surprised. "You're not coming back for two days?"

" _Rusty_! That is _enough_!" Sharon tried to glare at him, but she broke down and started laughing instead. If she hadn't needed the comic relief so badly, she probably would've been angry, but the last few days of being so anxious were taking their toll on her.

"Sorry, Mom, but that shit _lingered_."

Sharon was able to muster a proper glare this time. "Okay, now you're just exaggerating."

Rusty shook his head. "I wish."

Sharon rolled her eyes. "I don't think either one of you want me commenting on your bathroom habits."

Andy made a show of looking at his watch. "Oh, would you look at that! I really do have to go." He kissed Sharon and patted Rusty's shoulder. "Feel better, kid."

Once Andy was gone, Sharon dug through her purse for some Tylenol. She hadn't slept well again the night before, so she had a bit of a headache. She knew she wasn't getting sick, but she didn't want to take it in front of Andy, knowing he'd freak out. Just as she'd popped the pills into her mouth, Andy came back in, having forgotten his keys. "What are you taking?"

Sharon swallowed quickly. "I have a tiny little headache, Andy, so I took some Tylenol. I'm fine."

Andy studied her. "I don't know, Sharon, you look tired."

"Because I don't have any makeup on? Nice." She didn't want to mention not sleeping well to him at all, much less in front of Rusty.

"You know that's not what I meant! I wish you'd take an antibiotic."

"It's really not necessary, Andy. If I start running a fever, I'll ask for one, I promise."

"Or, you could ask for it now, before it even gets to that point. And how do you know you don't have a fever?" He held his hand to her forehead before she could react. She felt normal, as far as he knew, but he really wasn't sure what he was feeling for. His contact with his own children when they were sick growing up was limited. Sharon heaved an exasperated sigh and pushed his hand away. "Okay, okay, I'm leaving, for real this time. Love you."

Sharon touched his cheek. "Love you. I'm sorry, I'm just still a little on edge."

"I know. My nerves are still shot, myself. I'll come back at lunch." Andy kissed her again and left.

As the day went on, flowers from Sharon's parents and siblings, Ricky and Emily, Major Crimes, and the DA's office arrived. Patrice visited for most of the morning, and Andrea came by as Andy was leaving after lunch. The doctor had said that visitors were okay as long as they kept their distance from Rusty, as his immunity was lower than normal. "Rusty, if you wanted a couple of days off, you could've just said so," she joked when she came in.

"Yeah, a hospital is exactly where I would want to spend those days," Rusty mumbled irritably.

"Hi, Andrea, thanks for coming, is what he meant," Sharon spoke up.

Rusty nodded sheepishly. "Yeah, that too. Sorry."

Andrea smiled. "It's okay. I'd be grumpy, too."

Sharon looked at Rusty. "Speaking of grumpy, I've got to cancel your dentist appointment."

Rusty grinned. "Awesome."

" _Reschedule_ it, rather," Sharon clarified. She picked up her phone and scrolled through her contacts, then held her phone to her ear. Rusty listened absently as she spoke to the receptionist. Of course, the first piece of information asked for was his date of birth, and Sharon was able to tell her without hesitation. Small things like that still surprised him, sometimes. He had slept through most of Patrice's visit, but he was getting sleepy again. Sharon ended her call and moved closer to him, knowing he'd be falling asleep again before long.

"Go ahead and sleep, Rusty," Andrea encouraged when he started looking drowsy.

"I...hmmm." Sharon's fingernails scratching his back and her familiar scent made it impossible to hold his eyes open any longer. "Thanks for...flowers..." he mumbled.

"You're welcome. I'm glad you're getting better." Once Rusty was asleep, Andrea looked at Sharon. "I can honestly say, I never thought I'd see him like this."

Sharon smiled down at Rusty, who was curled into her side. "He actually likes to be near me when he's sick. He's never _needed_ me so much before, though. I can't move a muscle without him asking where I'm going. Even when he's asleep, he seems to be able to tell if I get up." She paused for a moment and ran her fingers through his hair. "If I were this sick, I'd want my mom, too, though. He's sleeping so much, and the brief times he's awake, he's a little out of it, and it would be frightening for him to have so many strangers doing things to him without me here."

Andrea nodded. "I guess so. His past isn't helping the situation at all."

Sharon shook her head. "No, it certainly is not."

"Any word on when he can go home?"

"It will be at least a week. It takes a while for the antibiotics to make a big difference, so they'll still have to run tests to make sure they're staying ahead of the bacteria." Sharon held her hand to his forehead. "He feels like his temperature is still close to 102. The antibiotics work, but his symptoms will go away slowly." They chatted for a little while longer before Andrea left.


	10. Chapter 10

Gus came to visit Rusty between shifts early Monday evening, and Sharon took the opportunity to finally get out of the hospital for a little while. Sharon knew he was coming, so she'd made dinner plans with Andrea and Gavin, then dried and fixed her hair after her shower, put makeup on, and traded her yoga pants and sweater for jeans and a blazer for the first time in a few days. She felt a little bad, as she'd guessed that Andy had packed 'real clothes' for her in the hopes of getting her out of the hospital himself, but Andrea and Gavin had happened to be able to leave work early, and she knew Andy wouldn't be able to leave in time for them to eat before Gus had to go back to work, and she didn't want to leave Rusty by himself. Andy knew about their dinner plans, and Sharon was sure he didn't mind. He wasn't overly fond of Gavin, and he was probably thinking that this spared him a good bit of time before he'd have to join a dinner that included Gavin again.

Sharon greeted Gus with a hug and took the vase of flowers from his hand. "Hi, Gus, I'm glad you had a chance to visit," she said warmly before turning back to Rusty. "I'm going for a quick dinner with Gavin and Andrea, but call or text me if you need me to come back. We're eating just a block away, so I can be back in just a few minutes. I'll keep my phone out. I don't mind at all, I promise."

Rusty rolled his eyes. They'd already had this conversation two thousand times this afternoon. "I know, Mom, go have fun."

Sharon kissed his hot forehead and studied him with a critical gaze. "I don't know..."

"Mom. I'm twenty. If you don't get out of here, then I'm eating on the couch and leaving the toilet seat up for a month once I get home."

It was Sharon's turn to roll her eyes. "That's not a _deal_. You do that, anyway."

"Whoa, now, I'll give you eating on the couch, but leaving the toilet seat up is all Andy. Or mostly Andy, anyway," Rusty said indignantly.

Sharon smiled. "You are right about that. I only fell in once or twice before Andy moved in," she joked. She looked around to make sure Rusty's phone was within reach. "Call me if you need me. I mean it."

"He will, and I'll let you know when I leave," Gus assured her. "Have a good time."

"Thanks." Sharon kissed the top of Rusty's head. "I'll be back soon, sweetheart. Love you."

"Love you, Mom."

Sharon affectionately squeezed Gus's shoulder before she left the room. "You guys have a nice visit." She left the hospital and walked down the street to the restaurant. As much as she hated leaving Rusty, she needed an hour or so with her friends. She hoped he'd be asleep again before Gus left so she could stay with them a little longer. His nurse had told her earlier that afternoon that they were going to cut back a little on his medicine the next day to make sure they weren't masking his symptoms too much, meaning that he'd probably be feeling a little bit worse and not sleeping as well as he had been. The nurse had said that tonight would be a good night for her to go home, but she couldn't do that. She _could_ have a couple of hours and a couple of glasses of wine with Gavin and Andrea, though, which was just what she needed.

Gavin and Andrea hadn't arrived yet when Sharon got to the restaurant, so she ordered a dirty martini and requested a table outside. The Autumn weather was gorgeous. Gavin arrived a few moments after she was seated. "Only you bitches could've scoped out this dive," he huffed.

Sharon sipped her drink before answering. "Well, we needed somewhere near the hospital that served wine and was reasonably quick and not crowded. I also wanted somewhere with outdoor seating, since I've been in a hospital room for three days. Our options were limited, and this place is pretty good!"

"Sure it is." Gavin glanced through the wine list, and Sharon wondered how he could possibly read it with his nose stuck in the air. "I suppose they'll be around with our bowl of peanuts soon...Oh, wow! I can't believe they have this! I can never find this wine in a restaurant," Gavin commented, peering more closely at the wine list.

"See what happens when you try new things?" Sharon raised an eyebrow and gave Gavin a smug look.

"Yeah, yeah. Damn, girl, you've just about killed that martini! The kid giving you a hard time?"

Sharon sighed. "No, I've just been worried about him. I think he's going to be okay, though. I'm just going to have a glass of wine with dinner, and that'll be all for me tonight."

Gavin's expression softened. "I know that was terrifying, but from what you've told me, it sounds like the doctors have it under control."

Sharon nodded. "I think so. I just wish he felt better. I hate seeing him so sick. He's hardly let me out of his sight. My shoulder feels naked without him pressed against me."

"My god. I pegged the kid for a whiner, but the clinginess is a bit of a surprise."

"Right?" Sharon finished off her martini, wishing she hadn't drank it so quickly. She'd planned to sip it for a while, then order a glass of wine with dinner, but waiting a while between drinks was fine with her. That was usually best when a martini was involved, anyway. "That was how I knew something was seriously wrong with him. Even when he didn't seem too sick, he wanted me right beside him. Gus is with him now, though, and I wanted to give them some privacy."

Andrea arrived just as their server was approaching. Sharon insisted she didn't want anything else right now once Gavin and Andrea had ordered drinks, but Gavin wasn't having it. "Actually, she'll have the same thing I'm having. Sharon. You _have_ to try this wine. If you don't like it, you can order whatever you want with dinner. One more glass of wine won't hurt."

Sharon shrugged. "Fine." By the time their server returned with drinks, they were ready to order. Sharon downed her wine much more quickly than she intended. Gavin was right about it being good. Without a drink to keep her hands busy now, her longing for a cigarette from the week before returned. She figured Gavin had some, but smoking in outdoor dining areas was prohibited in LA. Gavin seemed to read her mind. "You look like you could use a smoke, toots."

"I actually could," Sharon agreed, "but we can't smoke here."

Gavin nodded to a few bar stools arranged around a small bar not far from where they were sitting. "Which is what that's for. It's the required ten feet away from a dining area, Madam Rulebook. Let's get you another drink first, though, a cigarette without a side of wine at this time of day is just wrong."

That _did_ sound good. Sharon just wouldn't have wine with dinner. That was okay with her, and it would give her more time to sober up and get rid of the smell. Having three drinks in such a short time was sure to make her a bit tipsy, but dinner and the walk back to the hospital would counteract their effects well enough. Gavin and Andrea were still working on their first drinks, and they migrated to the smoking area once Sharon's third drink was in hand. Like Sharon, Andrea hadn't smoked regularly in years, but she could be easily persuaded if she was in the right mood. She accepted Gavin's offered cigarette, and they watched their table for their meals to arrive as they smoked and chatted. As Sharon was nearing the end of her cigarette, her phone dinged with a text from Gus.

 _I'm leaving, and Rusty's asleep. The nurse gave him medicine not long ago and said he'd probably be out for a while. Take your time and have fun._

Sharon quickly thanked him and put her phone in her blazer pocket, as she didn't feel the need to watch it like a hawk anymore. She gratefully accepted the second cigarette from Gavin after disposing of her first one in the ashtray. After taking a large sip of wine, she closed her eyes as she lit it and inhaled. The warm sunlight and slight chill in the air made it even more enjoyable. She hadn't smoked since the night she'd agreed to call off the security detail she'd had following Rusty without his knowledge a few months after Stroh escaped. That was over a year ago.

Several minutes before their food came, Andy texted Sharon that he was at the hospital and assured her that Rusty was still asleep. After texting him back to let her know if he woke up, she stuck her phone into her purse and excused herself to go to the restroom. When she returned, there was another glass of wine at her seat. " _Gavin_! I told you I wasn't drinking anymore tonight!"

"Whoops, slipped my mind," Gavin said, not sounding apologetic at all. "How that fine-looking specimen of a man you call your boyfriend ended up with such a prude is beyond me. What a waste."

Sharon laughed, too relaxed to get mad at him. She took a sip of wine, feeling a little embarrassed that Gavin and Andrea were only on their second drinks, but that feeling didn't last long. They usually drank more than she did when they were together, and it wasn't like she was sloppy or anything. She finally felt completely relaxed, so it was worth it. Their food came a couple of minutes later, which helped absorb some of the alcohol.

"One more cig before we leave?" Gavin suggested. "We have some drinks to finish off."

Sharon checked her phone before she answered. There were a couple of 'where are you/you okay?' texts from Andy, but he didn't say anything about Rusty being awake. She quickly responded that she was leaving soon and asked if Rusty was okay. When Andy replied that Rusty was still sleeping, she agreed to one more cigarette. She already smelled like smoke and knew she couldn't hide it. She'd been gone longer than she intended, but with Rusty asleep and knowing she'd be cooped up in the hospital again the next day, she didn't worry about it.

Gavin insisted on driving Sharon back to the hospital when they finally left the restaurant. After saying goodbye, she bought a couple of bottles of water from the cafeteria and found her way to Rusty's room. The alcohol had hit her a little more than she'd realized. Andy looked up from the book he was reading when she came in. "Where the hell have you been?!"

Sharon rolled her eyes. "You know where I was! Don't act like I just took off and didn't tell anyone where I was going!"

"I know, but you said you'd be back before now...You feeling okay?"

"I _told_ you, Andy, I'm fine. And, since Rusty was asleep, I didn't see a problem with staying out just a little longer. I've been trapped inside these four walls all weekend." She needed to sit down. Her words were slurring the tiniest bit, and she was starting to sway a little. She sat down on her cot that an orderly had already brought in for the night.

Andy continued to study her. "Are you _drunk_?!"

"Andy! I can't believe you'd say that! Of course not!" _Just a little. But it's none of your damn business, I hardly ever have more than two drinks at a time._

"Uh-huh." Andy walked over to her and wrinkled his nose. "Since when do you _smoke_?!" Sharon hadn't intended to try to hide it, knowing she couldn't, but she wasn't in the mood to explain it, either. Not that she felt like she should. "I was a smoker for years, Sharon, don't try to hide it. You look happy and a little sick. You smoked!"

Sharon giggled. "I actually smoked until just a few months before I got pregnant with Emily. I haven't smoked regularly since then, but a craving strikes every year or two, so I usually give in when it does. I seriously doubt that's enough to do any damage."

Andy kissed her cheek. "I didn't mean to sound angry, I was just surprised. How did I not know this?"

Sharon shrugged. "It just never came up, I guess, but it's not a secret. I'm not exactly proud of it, so the topic would've had to come up for me to mention it."

Andy nodded. He never had much of a desire to smoke anymore, but he did appreciate the smell of it. Especially on her. He flashed a crooked grin. "I hate I didn't know this before...It's actually, uh, kinda hot." He was actually a little grateful for Sharon's drunken state now, and he got up and closed the door. "The kid's knocked out, and it'll be another hour before a nurse comes back..."

Sharon looked horrified. "Andy, we _cannot_ do that!"

"I'm not talking about _that_. Just _this_." Andy gently pushed her down on the cot and kissed her hungrily. Sharon slipped out of her blazer, discarded it on the floor, and returned the kiss. Andy continued kissing her for several minutes and got a handful of her breast, running through baseball stats in his head the whole time, trying to ensure that all appendages currently pointing down stayed that way.

" _Ughhhhhh_ , you _guy_ -uys! Come up for air already!" Rusty had unfortunately woken up to a disgusting sight.

Andy jumped up, and Sharon quickly straightened her clothes. "Sorry, honey, I thought you were asleep."

Rusty groaned. "I'm hoping I'm still asleep, myself. Surely, this is a nightmare."

"Rusty, please. It was, ahh, just a little kiss." _Damn the alcohol for not letting her think straight._

" _A little kiss_?! Mom. The face-mauling in _Silence of the Lambs_ was less brutal than that!"

"All right, I think that's my cue to go." Andy kissed Sharon, chastely this time, and patted Rusty's shoulder. "See you guys tomorrow. Rusty? Keep an eye on your mother, will you?"

Once Andy was gone, Sharon got her pajamas out, intending to rinse off in the shower in an attempt to get rid of the cigarette smell and give herself a few more minutes to sober up a little. "I'm going to shower off and get ready for bed. I won't be long."

Rusty nodded. "No offense, Mom, but I'm not 'keeping an eye on you' for _that_."

"No arguments, here." Sharon took one of her bottles of water with her and took several large sips as she removed her makeup and waited for the shower water to warm up. Once she was satisfied with the temperature, she undressed, tied her hair back, and stepped into the shower. As she bathed, she spent extra time on her neck, face, hands, and arms, where cigarette smoke was most likely to linger. She wasn't going to take the time to wash and blowdry her hair, so hairspray would have to do for that. When she got out of the shower, she dried herself off, moisturized, brushed her teeth twice, and rinsed with mouthwash a few times. Sure that she'd gotten rid of enough of the smoke odor to blame it on Gavin if Rusty smelled it, she spritzed hairspray through her hair and put her pajamas on. After a few more sips of water and a detour by her purse for a piece of gum, she joined Rusty on his bed. He lay on her shoulder, and she held her hand to his forehead. "You okay? Need anything?"

"I'm fine...I'm glad you got out of here for a while."

"It was nice, but I'm glad to be back. If I smell like cigarette smoke, I stood with Gavin when he smoked a couple while we were there."

Rusty gave her a knowing look. He could smell traces of cigarette smoke on her breath, despite her obvious attempts to cover it up. "Mom. I know you smoke sometimes. You're not as good at covering it up as you think you are."

"I do _not_!"

"Yes, you do. You always still smell like it the next day, even after a shower and brushing your teeth ten times, and you left your emergency pack on the balcony one night."

"Oh..." Sharon's mind was a little too muddled to try to explain that away. She hadn't expected this conversation at all.

"So what if you smoke sometimes, Mom? It's not a bad thing."

"I know...I just don't like to admit to giving in to cravings, I guess. Especially to my children. I'd just rather most people not know. But, don't you get any ideas, young man. It's terrible for your health."

Rusty shook his head. "No danger in that. My other mom smelled like a tobacco plant for most of my childhood. I don't have the slightest desire to smoke."

Another thought occurred to Sharon. "Emily and Ricky don't know, so don't even think about saying anything to them."

"No problem. I _am_ going to have to tell Ricky that I got a fake sick day out of you in high school, though, now that you know about it. He said it couldn't be done."

Sharon groaned. "Ugh, that might be more embarrassing than smoking."

"Well, you'll have to pick one. I can't keep both of those a secret. I'll explode."

"I'll have to get back to you on that one. Speaking of secrets..." Sharon looked at her watch. "Have you caught up on Badge of Justice? The new one starts in a few minutes."

"Yeah. Turn the TV on. I still can't believe Jessica broke up with Nick for that goofball detective. She's such a hoebag."

The next morning, Sharon was awake and finishing up her paperwork when Andy came by. Now that he knew the 'check in at the security desk' trick, he wanted to see Sharon before he went to work as many mornings as he could. He just hoped she was awake, having no idea how well she bounced back from excess alcohol. She was awake and dressed, though, and just looked tired. She'd looked just as tired the morning before, so he doubted that had to do with drinking. "Hey, I'm glad you're up," he greeted her.

Sharon rolled her eyes. "I didn't really drink too _much_ last night, I just drank a little too _fast_." It was true. The good thing about that kind of drunk was that it also went away quickly and didn't come with a hangover. She'd been fine by the time _Badge of Justice_ was over the night before.

Andy grinned. "I'm not complaining. I thought you'd be a whiny drunk, or maybe a little irritable, but, not an, um, _amorous_ one."

"I _wasn't_ that drunk," Sharon huffed.

"I know. Just more so than I've ever seen you. It was a tough weekend. You needed a little outlet." Andy had been a little aggravated the day before that she was going to dinner with Gavin and Andrea instead of him, but he understood at the same time. He was over it now. With that out of the way, he couldn't stop worrying that she was getting sick. He pulled the thermometer from the condo out of his pocket.

Sharon eyed it and sighed in exasperation. " _Andy_! How many times do I have to tell you, I'm not getting sick!"

"Humor me, and I won't say another word about it."

"No." Sharon's gaze went back to her computer screen.

"What if, say, I agree to temporarily amend our 'you're only the boss at work' agreement?"

Sharon looked back up. "I'm listening."

"We can add an exception of the bedroom variety, if that interests you. For a month."

Sharon's eyes went back to her computer. "What if we venture outside of the bedroom?"

"That's why I said of the bedroom _variety_."

"Starting after I come home?"

Andy sighed dramatically. "You drive a hard bargain, but sure."

"Fine." Sharon closed her computer and snatched the thermometer from Andy. "But, I'm telling you, this is completely unnecessary."

When Rusty woke up, Andy was there, with a smug look on his face, and Sharon was on his bed beside him, thermometer under her tongue, with her arms crossed and scowling. His eyes widened. "Mom! Are you sick?!" Sharon rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"She's probably fine, I would just feel better if we made sure," Andy clarified.

Rusty nodded. "How'd you talk her into _that_?!"

Andy tried to look offended. "What? You think your mom's the only one around here who can make a deal?"

Rusty wrinkled his nose. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I'm better off, and less disgusted, not knowing the details of that one."

Sharon triumphantly pulled the thermometer out of her mouth when it beeped and showed a less-than-normal reading. "Told you so."

"Good." Andy got his keys and stood up to confirm the thermometer's reading and kiss her goodbye before he left for work. "I look forward to fulfilling my end of the bargain," he murmured.

Rusty made a face. "I would say 'gross,' but that word's lost all meaning after last night."

 **A/N: I'm not knocking smoking, I just thought this would've been a funny scenario. And before any 'experts' attack me, it really wouldn't shock me if Sharon was an occasional smoker. Reading someone's blog post recently about taking an acting class taught by Mary McDonnell in the early 80s and how she chain-smoked through the classes, but then had quit the next semester after getting married, inspired this side of Sharon.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Oh, "guest." Thank you for providing a perfect example of why I've felt the need to provide some sort of explanation with almost every chapter. And a sincere thank you to all of the other reviewers, especially the ones who helped me out. Yes, I am well-aware that this story is slow-moving. Ironically, that fact was included in one of my prior "explanations." There are over 2,000 MC fanfics, so just about every plot line has been done over and over again. It would be rather difficult to come up with a unique plot that people would be interested in reading. The best way to make stories unique at this point is with details, and that takes a lot of space. I know the premise of Rusty being sick has been done a lot, but so has just about any other storyline I could've thought of, so I'm trying to write conversations, interactions, and subplot scenarios that we haven't seen yet, or at least that we haven't seen a bunch of times.**

 **I will be speeding up a bit after this, though, but I was already planning to do that before the incident of the whiny guest. With that being said, I definitely appreciate nice "guests" who honestly don't have accounts! It's the ones whose "guest" statuses are probably a result of signing out of their accounts to post a ridiculous comment that I have no patience for. :)**

On Tuesday morning, Rusty's nurse came in not long after Andy left to examine him and start his first antibiotic dose for the day. "Morning, Rusty," Bruce greeted. "Do I need to help you to the bathroom before we get started?"

Rusty shook his head. "Mom already helped me," he mumbled. He closed his eyes and let Sharon field a few entirely too personal and embarrassing questions. He didn't know what he was looking forward to more-feeling better or no longer having his toileting policed. He was too grateful for not having to answer the questions himself to be embarrassed about the fact that Sharon actually knew the answers.

After getting the antibiotic IV attached, Bruce gently examined Rusty and asked him some less-invasive questions. "Okay, Rusty, everything looks good, but we're going to draw some more blood this morning."

" _Again_?! Freaking vampires," Rusty muttered.

Bruce patted his arm. "A lab vampire will be in to do that soon, and I'll be back in an hour to remove your IV. Let me know if you need something before then."

Rusty looked confused. He'd gotten a steroid shot every morning so far. "What, no butt shot today?" Not that he was complaining. He didn't like being sick, needles, or people seeing his butt, and he'd endured entirely too much of all of that in the last few days.

Bruce smiled. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but the neurologist ordered a CT scan for you this afternoon. Dr. Tan wants to see how you're doing without the help of the anti-inflammatory. I believe she's coming to examine you again early this afternoon. Dr. Feldman will be in sometime this morning, as well." He made some notes on Rusty's chart and left the room.

" _Why_ do they ask those questions all the time?" Rusty moaned, covering his face with his hand.

"Constipation is a side effect of the Compazine, so they need to make sure that's not a problem, and they want to make sure you're not dehydrated," Sharon answered. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about. It's perfectly natur-"

"Ewww, just stop. And _talking_ about it with my mom and total strangers, or with _anyone_ , for that matter, is definitely _not_ natural."

Sharon shrugged. "Hey, you asked the question. Not me." She slipped into a pair of sandals and found her infamous coffee mug. "I'm going to find some breakfast and coffee." She eyed Rusty's barely-touched breakfast plate from earlier that morning. "Is there anything at all you think you can eat? I can go to the cafeteria or to the diner across the street if you can think of something you would eat." Rusty shook his head. The water that was being forced down his throat was bad enough. "All right. I'll be right back." Sharon nodded to the cup of water beside Rusty's bed. "That water better be almost gone when I get back."

Rusty eyed Sharon's coffee mug when she came back in. "In this entire hospital, that's all you can find to drink out of?! Mom. That's just wrong."

Sharon smiled. "It was weird at first, but I'm actually used to it."

"Ugh."

Sharon got her breakfast sandwich out and began to eat. She normally stuck to plainer things in the morning, but she needed a little grease after the wine consumption the night before. She wasn't hungover, but she wasn't 100 percent, either, and the sandwich and coffee would counteract the effects of the alcohol just fine. "Do you want some fruit?" Sharon offered, holding out the container she'd bought in the cafeteria. If he didn't want it, she knew she'd pick at it throughout the morning.

Rusty wrinkled his nose. "My stomach feels like crap. I never thought I'd say this, but I can't wait to get that other shot."

Sharon threw her trash away and sat on Rusty's bed. "You're not getting that shot today, either. Blood tests will give them an idea of whether you're improving, but your symptoms are the best indicator, so they need to see how you're feeling without the help of medicine."

Rusty groaned. "How do they _think_ I'll feel without medicine?!"

"Hopefully better than you did on Friday before it started kicking in. How's your stomach? Do you think you're going to get sick?" Sharon looked around to make sure a basin was within arm's reach.

"Don't think so," Rusty muttered. "Just feels gross." He pulled his covers up and lay against Sharon. He felt like a child, but being so close to her somehow made him feel a little better.

"Does your head hurt?" Sharon held her hand to his forehead, lingering for a few moments before drifting to his cheek. "Your temperature went up a little, but it's probably because you haven't had any medicine."

"Mm hmm...Not as bad as it did Friday, though." Rusty closed his eyes as Sharon's cool fingers stroked back and forth over his forehead, but he wasn't able to fall asleep. It didn't really matter, though, because a lab tech came in a little while later to draw blood, during which he shamelessly squeezed Sharon's hand so hard that he was afraid he'd hurt her, and Bruce came back soon after that to remove his antibiotic. Bruce came in two more times before Dr. Feldman arrived, and by the time he'd examined Rusty, it was lunchtime. Not being able to fall asleep was certainly less frustrating than it would've been to have his sleep interrupted so many times.

Andy arrived with lunch soon after Dr. Feldman left the room. He gave Sharon a worried look when he saw that Rusty seemed to be worse than he had been the day before.

"He's feeling worse today, but it's because the doctors need to see how he's doing without medicine masking his symptoms," Sharon assured him. She gave Rusty a rueful look as she removed the take-out container from the bag and shifted her gaze back to Andy. "I'd trade places with him in a heartbeat if I could."

Rusty rolled his eyes. "Mom. That is literally crazy."

Sharon gave Rusty her own eye roll. "No, what's crazy is that someone as smart as you are insists upon using the word _literally_ to add emphasis." He'd been doing that more and more recently, and it grated on her nerves every time. "It would've been obvious that you meant _crazy_ in its literal sense without putting _literally_ before it." Rusty's face clouded over in confusion. "Like a couple of weeks ago when you said that you were literally heartbroken when Nick and Jessica broke up. If that were true, then you wouldn't have lived to tell about it, because your heart would've stopped functioning..." Sharon's voice trailed off and her eyes widened when she realized what she'd said.

It was Andy's turn to look confused. "Who are Nick and Jessica?"

"Um..." Sharon wracked her brain, trying to come up with an explanation.

Rusty heaved an exaggerated sigh. "We can't keep it from him forever, Mom, he's going to find out sooner or later. We might as well tell him how."

Sharon grimaced. "I don't know, honey, do you really think we're ready to tell him?"

Rusty shrugged. "As ready as we'll ever be. Waiting won't make it any easier, and I'm sure he'd rather hear it from us than find out on his own."

"Find out _what_?!" Andy looked befuddled. He couldn't imagine what the hell they could be talking about.

"Okay, I guess you're right." Sharon took a deep breath. "On nights that you've either gone to bed early or been away from the condo, Rusty and I have been, uh..."

"Just spit it out, Mom," Rusty encouraged. "Rip the band-aid off, it's less painful."

"We watch _Badge of Justice,_ okay?!" Sharon released a shaky breath. " _God_ , I feel like a weight's been lifted off of my chest."

 _That_ hadn't been what Andy was expecting to hear, although he wasn't sure exactly what he _had_ been expecting. "So, uh, how did this start? Don't tell me it was just a one-time thing and meant nothing to you."

Sharon laughed. "I actually did only intend to watch one or two episodes so I could say enough to Mike about it to show that I supported him, but...I kind of got sucked in. Rusty caught me watching it one night and made fun of me, but he was obsessed with it by the next week."

" _I'm_ obsessed?! Mom. I watch the show, and that's it. You, like, _fangirl_ over it." Rusty turned to Andy. "You know when she's 'reading emails' or 'going over reports' on her computer at night? She's reading fanfiction."

" _Rusty_!"

Rusty gave Sharon an innocent look. "What? He was going to find that out sooner or later, too. Now, you don't have to panic every time he walks behind you when you're on your computer."

Andy chuckled. "I mean, if that's how you want to waste your time, then do it, but how can you stand it?! That Worth kid is a _terrible_ actor!"

"But he's sooooo cute," Sharon and Rusty responded in unison.

Andy shook his head with an amused look on his face. "I can't believe this...So, anymore secrets I should know about?"

Sharon shook her head. "I think that about covers it."

Rusty looked thoughtful. "Well, there is _one_ more..."

Sharon was confused for a few moments before she realized what he was talking about. "No, Rusty, we're _definitely_ not ready for that one."

"Come on, Mom, it's actually kind of funny now. And, like I told you before, I was too traumatized to even see anything, or to remember seeing anything, anyway."

 _That_ piqued Andy's curiosity. "You can't say that and then not tell me what you're talking about."

Sharon held her hands up in defeat. "All right, fine. It _is_ kind of funny, now that you mention it." She chuckled, remembering Rusty's horrified screams and hearing the _thump_ when he'd hit his head against his doorway.

Rusty nodded solemnly and looked at Andy. "I've seen Mom naked."

" _What_?!" Andy broke into a fit of laughter. "How did _that_ happen?!" In such close quarters, it didn't really surprise him, except for the fact that he had first-hand experience with how closed-bloused Sharon was. They'd been on the on-ramp for sex before his blood clot temporarily derailed him, but Sharon was still frustratingly closed-doored and wouldn't even change her socks without the privacy of a locked door. He couldn't have walked in on her naked if he tried then. Which, admittedly, he did try.

Sharon was laughing now, too. "The first couple of weeks Rusty lived with me, I sometimes forgot he was there when I first woke up in the mornings. I even almost left him at home a few times when I was really rushed in the morning and didn't have time to collect my thoughts before I had to be out the door. Anyway, I was in the beginning stages of menopause then, and I woke up in the middle of the night with a hot flash. The only thing on my mind was how quickly I could get my nightgown off and get a cold cloth." Even her panties had been miserably hot, so she had shed those on the way to the bathroom, too. "I was groggy and so desperate to cool myself off that the fact that the door to the hall was open and a sleeping teenager was across the hall who might wake up and need to use the bathroom at the worst possible time wasn't even on my radar." She and Rusty had barely been able to look at each other for a few days, but she'd felt that she owed him an explanation, and she'd certainly needed to reassure him that it wouldn't happen again. Giving her other kids the 'sex talk' had been _nothing_ compared to that.

Rusty nodded. "And then I rammed my head into the side of my doorway trying to run back into my room and about knocked myself out. I could tell she was naked, but I was too drowsy and freaked out to focus on anything, thank god." He gave Andy a knowing look. "Just be glad you didn't join the party until menopause was past the 'beginning stages.' I found a pair of Mom's period panties a few weeks after that, and _that_ might have been more traumatizing than the hot flash fiasco."

Sharon's eyes widened. "You _what_?! You never told me that! I'm so sorry, honey, that is disgusting!" She knew it was possible, though. Once her periods started slowing down and not being often enough to be predictable, she ruined several pairs of panties and usually just threw them away, unless they were some of her favorites. If that happened, she usually rinsed them out and buried them in her laundry basket right away, but she must've been in a hurry and stashed them in her laundry basket to rinse out later.

Rusty shrugged. "I tried to block it out. I was starting to like you a little bit, and it kind of scared me. I thought you were too ol-I mean, um, _past_ that, uh, stuff, so I was afraid something was wrong with you. I googled it, though, and learned that you can still get _those_ after meno-whatever has started."

"So, how exactly did you find them? I know I didn't just leave them out."

"I was about to do laundry and wanted to make sure I washed all of my uniform shirts, but I was missing one. I remembered leaving one on the bathroom floor one night, so I thought you had put it in your laundry basket." Rusty shuddered. "That wasn't _all_ you put in your laundry basket."

Sharon's face was flaming from embarrassment. "Too bad that didn't break your habit of leaving your clothes on the bathroom floor," she muttered. She was far past the point of being embarrassed by 'period talk,' and, while she'd only met Andy's ex-wife a couple of times, it was clear that Sandra was the whiny type. Andy had probably gotten an earful of period woes when they were together. Still, she felt terrible. No teenaged boy should ever have to see his mom's 'period panties.'

Rusty shook his head. "I haven't touched your laundry basket without telling you I'm going to add some of your stuff to a load first in case you needed to get rid of something, though, I can promise you that."

Sharon glowered at Rusty. "You sure are talking a lot for someone who 'feels like crap,' young man."

"Because I feel too bad to do anything else, Mom. Even sleep. I have to have _some_ kind of entertainment. And you guys act disgusting in front of me all the time. I have to take my opportunities for revenge when I can get them."

Andy was doubled over laughing and was starting to gasp for breath. "That's an important life lesson." He got up and pecked Sharon on the lips. "I've got a meeting tonight, so Patrice is bringing you dinner, and I'll see you guys in the morning. Give me your dirty clothes, and I'll take them home and wash them. Can't have your 'flannel pants of doom' supply running low."

Sharon rolled her eyes so hard that she had to blink a few times to regain her focus. "You two aren't nearly as funny as you think you are. But thanks for calling Patrice for me. There are some pretty good places to eat downstairs, but I'd like to see her for a while." She got up and started filling a bag with Rusty's and her dirty clothes, including the rinsed-out panties from the day she'd damn near wet her pants because Andy was being such a girl in the bathroom.

Andy looked into the bag with exaggerated movements. "Any 'period panties' I should know about?"

Sharon bit back a laugh and shrugged. _No_ , _just_ _slightly_ _peed_ - _in_ _ones_ , _but_ _don't_ _worry_ , _I_ _rinsed_ _them_ _out_. "I guess you'll just have to take your chances."


	12. Chapter 12

**Thanks for still reading and reviewing, everyone! I just wanted to clear up the "menopause" and "Badge of Justice fanfic" parts of the last chapter. The reviewers who commented about it weren't rude at all, I just wanted to explain where I was coming from, because some other readers may have thought the same thing. Based upon Duff interviews, I guessed Sharon's age in the first season to be 53-56. While many women go through menopause before then, there are also many who don't, and it was very possible that Sharon was in menopause then. I put her at the back end of the average menopause range for the purpose of a humorous moment. :)**

 **From the beginning of this story, I've wanted to give Sharon a 'guilty pleasure' to add a little to her character, I just didn't know what. I'm not quite sure why I settled on fanfic, but here we are. Everyone has a guilty pleasure, and it's something that others wouldn't believe if they found out about it. That's how they work. It didn't matter what I picked for Sharon's-people would've reacted 'no way,' no matter what. I should've explained that before the last chapter, though, I'm sorry! Again, the reviewers weren't rude at all about it and have left great reviews this whole time, I just wanted to explain where it came from.**

By Sunday night, Rusty was feeling a good bit better. He was still tired, achy, and had waves of nausea here and there, but he no longer needed Sharon right beside him all the time. It was still comforting for her to sit with him, but he was grateful that he no longer needed it on the level that he had until just a couple of days ago. _That_ shit was embarrassing. He was starting to get pissed off that he couldn't go home yet, but they were going to make him receive IV antibiotics for at least five more days before they would let him go home. He looked over at Sharon, sitting in the chair beside his bed and working on her computer. She'd hardly left his side all week, and he was starting to feel a little guilty.

Sharon seemed to sense his eyes on her. She closed her computer and stretched a little bit before standing up. "That's enough of that. I'm going to put my pajamas on. Need anything?" Rusty shook his head as Sharon got a clean pair of pajamas and disappeared into the bathroom. She came back in a minute later and sat beside him on his bed. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing. I just...Mom, I'm twenty. You don't have to stay with me. I'm sure you want to go home."

Sharon put her arm around him and settled beside him. "I don't care how old you are, I'm not leaving my sick son alone in the hospital. I wouldn't get a bit of sleep at home. I would do the same thing for Emily or Ricky. Don't worry about it."

"If you say so." Rusty lay against Sharon as they watched TV. He liked the one-on-one time they'd had, and he was glad she was staying with him. He liked Andy a lot and was glad that Sharon was happy, but he sometimes missed the days when it was just the two of them. "Love you, Mom," he murmured.

"Hmm, I think I might be starting to love you a little bit, myself."

Rusty wrinkled his nose. "Yeah, I think that much was clear when you cleaned up after me that time I threw up in the hall, and you were already nauseous to begin with."

Sharon chuckled. "Now, _that_ was an experience."

Rusty nodded. "If we weren't used to each other before then, we _definitely_ were after."

"Yeah, there's nothing like witnessing each other vomit for two days to break the ice." Sharon carded her fingers through Rusty's hair as they watched TV. He was asleep on her shoulder a couple of hours later, so she kissed his forehead and tucked him in before climbing into her cot and reading for a little bit before going to sleep, herself.

On Monday afternoon, Buzz texted Rusty that he and Provenza were coming to visit for a while after work. Rusty looked over at Sharon as she worked on her computer in the chair beside him. "Hey, Mom? Buzz and Lt. Provenza are coming to visit when they leave work, so why don't you and Andy go out for dinner? And actually stay out for longer than an hour this time." Sharon and Andy had escaped a couple of times in the last week while Rusty had other visitors, but Sharon hadn't wanted to stay away from him for very long.

Sharon looked up from her computer. Rusty was feeling much better than the last time he'd had a visitor long enough for her to get away for a little while, so she was more comfortable with leaving him for longer than that now. "Hmm, I think I'll take you up on that." Except _eating_ wasn't exactly on her mind. She picked up her phone and sent Andy a text with the 'sexy time' emojis ( **A/N** : I know it's been a while, but these were described in the first chapter) and nothing else.

Andy was sitting at his desk at work when his phone dinged with a text from Sharon. He was expecting a dinner request, so he was surprised to see the long-awaited sexy-time emojis. Too excited to think about the logistics of this, he texted right back. _Are_ _you serious?! When and where?!_ Once the text was sent, he stopped to think about it. Was that even possible? He knew Sharon wouldn't be coming home tonight. She wouldn't mess with him like this, though, right? He immediately sent another text back. _Wait, is this a test?_

Sharon bit back a smile when she saw his response. _Go straight home when you leave work. Buzz and Provenza are coming to visit for a while, so I'm going to take advantage of it. I'll meet you at home as soon as they get here._

Andy grinned stupidly at his phone. _It's about damn time._ The grin started to fade when he realized he still had to wait several hours, but it was better than several days.

Provenza rolled his eyes when he saw the goofy expression on Andy's face. "Hey, Flynn, if that goofball grin on your face has anything to do with the fact that Buzz and I are relieving the Captain of Kid Duty for a couple of hours this evening, I don't want to hear about it."

Andy snapped back to reality and locked his phone. "Then don't ask, old man." The afternoon crept by, but everyone finally began to trickle out for the day. Once everyone was gone, Andy dug out the key ring Sharon had given him that morning and unlocked her office to get a couple of files that she'd asked for. She didn't usually lock her office overnight, but she'd asked Andy to lock it for her when she realized she was going to be out for a couple of weeks. He got the files out of her middle desk drawer and turned to go, but her locked top drawer caught his interest. He had always wondered what was in there. With Brenda, it had been no question-it had been filled with ungodly amounts of candy. He'd seen Sharon freely get things out of it during the day without using a key, but if she even stepped away from her desk long enough to go to the bathroom, then that thing was locked up like Fort Knox. He hadn't actually tried to snoop before, but he'd never seen her get up from her desk without locking the drawer before, and if she did open it with people around, she was very careful not to expose the contents. She kept her extra set of car and condo keys in the middle drawer, in case Rusty needed them when she wasn't there. He eyed the other key on the key ring. She'd only given him the single office key when she asked him to lock her office, but the kid had started feeling nauseous as Sharon was asking Andy to get the files for her, so she'd hurriedly given him the key ring without taking the time to pull it off so she could take care of Rusty.

Andy debated for a few moments. No, he shouldn't do this. She was private about that drawer for a reason. But, what could it possibly be? This was her office, it wasn't like it was a drawer at home that she kept private. At the worst, it was probably some trashy novel to fill slow days or to give her mind a break in the middle of a tough case. Hell, everyone had their guilty pleasures and means of coping with dark cases. In a weak moment, curiosity got the better of him, and he slipped the key into the lock and opened the drawer. He cringed as he slowly opened it, afraid of what he might find, but he found the usual stuff-extra pens, post-its, legal pads, and folders, some spare vending machine change for late nights, some random scribbled notes, and a couple of snacks. Wondering why she was so secretive about this, he started to close the drawer when another object in the back of the drawer caught his eye. He pulled the vaguely-familiar object out, trying to remember what it was. He knew it was a female thing-holy shit, it was a damn vibrator. What the hell?! Why did she keep this in her office?! And why the _damn_ hell did she still have one?! It wasn't like she'd forgotten she had it. She was anal about locking that drawer any time she so much as spun around in her chair. He stuffed it back in the drawer, careful to leave everything as he'd found it, and slammed the drawer.

Andy stewed about what he'd found the entire drive home. He didn't blame her for having one before they started the intimate part of their relationship, and, although he was sure she'd been with other men before they started dating, there were probably times where she didn't have any other means to deal with a fire that needed to be put out. But why hadn't she gotten rid of it? She seemed to be more than sufficiently-satisfied when they were intimate, and, before his heart attack, they did it often enough to keep them both with nothing to be desired. Or so he thought. Andy felt blind-sided. He'd never doubted his ability to please a woman before. Did Sharon just put on a show for him, and then finish the job herself once he'd fallen asleep? And how did she transfer the damn thing from her office to the condo without him noticing? Damn, _that_ had changed his mood rather quickly. He wasn't angry or annoyed, he was just dumbfounded. _What_ was he doing wrong? He'd worked himself into a pretty good snit by the time he got home. He put a vegetarian lasagna in the oven that he'd prepared the night before while he was waiting for Sharon to get home. By the time it was done, they would hopefully be famished.

Sharon arrived not long after he did and was practically pulling her clothes off as she walked in the door. As much as Andy had been whining about their temporary celibacy, she'd expected to find him undressed and ready to go, but he was still in his full suit. She shrugged out of her cardigan and gave him a puzzled look when he didn't make a move. "Is something wrong?"

Andy snapped out of his daze. "Ah, no. Sorry." Trying to push the contents of Sharon's desk drawer out of his mind, he took his suit jacket off and pulled Sharon to him, going straight for the sensitive spot on her neck that always got her going. Maybe _that_ was the problem. Was he too predictable? She always reacted to that, but was she faking? Ugh, he never should've opened that damn drawer. For the same reason he never opened the cabinets under Sharon's side of the sink in the bathroom and opted to keep his things under Rusty's side. There was female stuff that he should never, _ever_ , even know about, much less see with his own eyes.

Sharon sensed that Andy seemed a little off as they went through the motions of getting one another undressed and heating things up, but he still seemed fragile to her, so she didn't comment. If he was tired, she didn't want to pressure him. She looked closely at him. "Are you sure you're up for this?"

"Oh, yeah." Andy's hand slipped lower as he deepened the kiss, but he started second-guessing himself again. Maybe that's where he should change it up? He moved his hand to her breast instead.

Sharon heaved an exasperated sigh, grabbed his hand, and lowered it to where it had been. What the hell was he doing?! After a few awkward moments, they found their rhythm again, then made their way to the bedroom. As time went by, and Andy still wasn't, um, "ready," Sharon thought at first that he was trying to give her some extra attention before they sealed the deal, but it was getting to the point where they were going to have to move things along if they wanted dinner at all before she went back to the hospital. Andy realized this, too, and the added pressure of the time restraint made it that much more difficult for him to perform. Realizing what the problem was, Sharon lowered her hands to try to help him out, to no avail. When they both came to terms with the fact that it wasn't going to happen, the kissing and groping slowly tapered off, and Andy groaned in frustration. "Honey, it's okay," Sharon murmured. "It happens to every-"

" _Not_ to me," Andy grumbled. This was unbelievable. Clearly, he _wasn't_ up for this. Not in the sense he needed to be, anyway. He'd been anticipating this for weeks, and now he couldn't get it up. The vibrator came to mind again. It was that damn thing's fault. If he hadn't been so nervous about why she had it, then this wouldn't be a problem. He might not be able to mimic it, but he could damn well try. Sharon was starting to ease out from under him, but he pressed her back against the pillows. "Hey, just because I can't get off at the moment, doesn't mean you should suffer." Sharon squealed as he lowered his head to finish the job that he hadn't otherwise been able to complete.

Once they were cleaned up, dressed again, and eating dinner, Andy could hardly make eye contact with Sharon. She knew he was embarrassed, but, good lord, it happens. And she _definitely_ hadn't ended the encounter being disappointed. She put her hand on his arm as they continued to eat. "Andy, really, don't worry about it. This just happens sometimes. It's not your fault, and I know it has nothing to do with how you feel about me." Andy just grunted in response, and she was starting to get the feeling that something else was on his mind.

 _Speaking of failed sexual encounters_...Andy pulled Sharon's office keys out of the pocket of his jacket that was draped across the back of the chair he was sitting in. "Um, here are your keys, before I forget," he mumbled.

Sharon took the keys from him, and the key to her desk drawer caught her eye. She'd completely forgotten to take it off that morning before she'd given the key ring to Andy. The pieces of the puzzle started to come together in her head. "Andy, you didn't..."

"I admit it. I did. I know I invaded your privacy, and I shouldn't have, but...I wasn't expecting _that_. But why?! Am I not enough? I know it's been a long couple of months since the heart attack, but you had that damn thing long before then. I've never seen you get up from your desk without locking that drawer first."

Sharon sighed. She hadn't planned on having _this_ conversation tonight. "Andy. Um, _this_ part of my life was mostly a solo activity for so long, and I just got used to it. I did, um, _see_ _men_ here and there, but I needed a little something extra, too. I love being with you, but there are times where I don't want to deal with all of the pregame motions, or with someone else being present. I just want to do it and be done. It has nothing to do with you. You are more than enough, I promise. I keep it locked in my office drawer because that's the only place I'm absolutely certain no one can find it."

Andy didn't know what to say. _This_ wasn't a conversation he'd ever thought they would have.

Sharon looked exasperated. "Don't look at me like that! Just think of it as a hobby. Like playing tennis."

Andy looked heavenward. "Oh, god, I'll never be able to watch Wimbledon the same way again." Now, all he could think about was how hot Sharon would look in a tennis skirt with those amazing legs of hers.

Sharon rolled her eyes. "The point is that it has nothing to do with our relationship. It's just something that I'm not quite ready to give up yet. Work with me."

Andy grinned. "I guess I can do that."

 **A/N: I know there are probably some details in a few episodes disproving my "desk drawer" description, and I know Andy probably wouldn't snoop through it, but we all have weak moments, and I was going for humor, here. :) Inspiration for the content of the drawer came from something Mary McDonnell said about it in a 2014 interview, and I exaggerated from that. Also, I've been reading fanfic for less than a year, so if the desk drawer thing has been addressed a lot before, then I'm sorry!**

 **Also, I know this chapter was probably frustrating, but Andy has to be pushing 60, if he's not there already. This happens. I'm getting to the end soon, though!**


	13. Chapter 13

_**Still Monday Evening**_

Andy wasn't planning to go to the hospital with Sharon after dinner, but, unfortunately, they finished earlier than expected, so he figured he might as well. Once they finished cleaning the kitchen, Sharon got a couple of extra things for her and Rusty and met Andy at the door. She pulled his face to her and kissed him deeply before opening the door. Andy had hardly said a word during dinner, and Sharon knew he was still dismayed about what had happened earlier. "Honey, please, stop worrying about it. It's okay. It was bound to happen, and it will probably happen aga-"

"Like hell it will," Andy grumbled.

"Anyway, it's not your fault. If it does happen again, it will be okay, so there's no need to dwell on it." Hell, she'd still gotten hers. She hated that he was feeling so badly about it, though. When they got down to the parking garage, she kissed him again before they got in their respective cars to go back to the hospital. When they got to Rusty's room, Provenza took one look at Andy and started laughing. What the hell?! How could he possibly know what happened? Andy looked down at himself like he expected to find a sign that said _I couldn't get it up._

Okay, what's so funny?" Andy growled.

"So, you've, uh, had some problems in the bedroom?" Provenza could hardly speak from laughing.

"Ewwwwww, you promised to wait until I wasn't around to make fun of him!" Rusty whined. Andy's breath caught in his throat, and he could tell his cheeks were turning crimson. Surely, they weren't talking about...Sharon wouldn't have told... _Would_ she?! How did they know? Before Andy could give himself away, Provenza brandished the Viagra mug. Oh, thank god.

Provenza couldn't contain himself. "How many refills do you have to get before they give you one of these? You must be some kind of VIP."

"I _told_ you a nurse-"

"Stop," Provenza interrupted Rusty. "My theory is better. I don't get many opportunities like this, let me have my fun."

Rusty grimaced. "I'd rather not."

Buzz made a face. "I could do without that image, myself. No offense."

Andy rolled his eyes. "None taken. I wouldn't object to a change of subject, either." They talked for a little while before Provenza and Buzz left, and Andy left not long after them. When he got back to the condo, he couldn't stop thinking about his failed attempt or Sharon's damn vibrator. Although he didn't get her off every time, he thought his record was pretty impressive. And he didn't have to worry that she was faking it when she did climax. Until now, anyway. In a moment of sheer desperation, he turned to _the Google_ , as Provenza would say. Well, damn. No wonder the woman needed some extra help. According to the articles he was reading, he was doing it all wrong. This was a first. Women had had countless complaints about him in the past, but performance had never been one of them. Had they just been polite this whole time? It didn't take long for him to get overwhelmed, so he tore himself away from _the google_ and got ready for bed.

On Tuesday morning, Sharon woke up when she heard Rusty's nurse come in and check his vitals. She dozed for a few more minutes, and when she woke up again, Rusty's bed was empty, and the nurse was sitting in a chair and making notes in his chart. Sharon sat up and rubbed her eyes. "Morning, Elizabeth," she greeted, trying to stifle a yawn. "It's nice to see you again."

"You too, Sharon...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"It's okay, I needed to get up, anyway." Sharon figured that Rusty was in the bathroom, so she gathered some clean clothes and sat back on her cot to wait for him to come out.

After a couple of minutes, Elizabeth got up and knocked on the bathroom door. "Rusty? Are there enough moist towelettes-"

"Baby wipes, Elizabeth. They're glorified baby wipes. And toilet paper works just fine," Rusty's grumpy voice sounded from the bathroom.

Elizabeth chuckled. "I know, but it's easier to-"

" _I know_. Please, just stop."

Sharon gave Elizabeth an apologetic look. "I'm sorry. The longer he has to stay here, the grumpier he gets."

Elizabeth smiled. "I don't blame him. It's bad enough to have to be here when you're really sick, but now that he's feeling a little better, I know it's frustrating for him to have to stay here. Dr. Feldman prefers to keep patients until they've been on antibiotics for fourteen days at a minimum, though, to make sure there aren't any problems. Rusty will still take antibiotics after he goes home, but they'll be oral, and they'll be of a more preventative nature to make sure we get it all."

Sharon nodded. "I understand. I would actually be a little afraid to take him home now. None of my children have ever been this sick before." She looked toward the bathroom when she heard the toilet flush and the sink turn on. Rusty emerged a minute later.

"I'm trying to remember the last time I left a bathroom and didn't have an audience," Rusty moaned.

"Yeah, yeah, we're so terrible," Elizabeth said, with mock sympathy. "Let's go take a couple of laps around the hall."

A little while after Rusty was back in bed, Sharon was responding to emails from the day before on her computer when her phone started going off. "Ah, Emily Senior." She sat beside Rusty before answering the FaceTime call. "Hi, Mom."

"Hi, honey. Rusty! How are you feeling?"

"Hi, Nana. Better," he mumbled, not in the mood to elaborate. God, he was tired of answering that question.

"He's still not feeling too well, but he's improved a lot," Sharon clarified. "He probably won't feel like himself again for a few more weeks, but he's not nearly as sick as he was."

"Yes, I can tell he looks a little better than he did a couple of days ago, but he still looks miserable. When can he go home?"

"His doctor wants him to be on IV antibiotics for two weeks before he'll even think about sending him home, and that will be this Friday. Depending upon how he's feeling and blood test results, he may be able to go home then."

Emily O'Dwyer nodded. "I'm sure you are both ready. I can't imagine being stuck in the hospital with your dad for two weeks. He acts like he's dying when he has a little cold."

"He can't be worse than Andy," Rusty scoffed.

Emily shook her head. "I'd be willing to take that bet. When your mom, Aunt Alice, and Uncle Robert were growing up, Granddad was great with them when they were sick. He would clean up vomit or change wet beds and kids in the middle of the night like a pro, but, lord knows, if he sneezes, I hear about it for two weeks. I've never seen anything like it. I'd much rather have a cold than get out of bed in the middle of the night to deal with vomit or pee-soaked kids. No offense, sweetheart."

"Uh-huh. Speaking of which, where is Dad?" Sharon asked.

Her mom shrugged. "He's around here somewhere. I'll find him in a minute if he doesn't hear me talking to you first. Are you okay on sick days or whatever you're using to stay out of work with Rusty? Dad and I can come relieve you if you need to go back to work." Despite being eighty years old, Sharon's parents were in good health and were still quite active.

"Thanks, but I have plenty of leave time," Sharon answered. "I'm able to get some work done here, so I'm not burning through too many days, yet. You guys are definitely welcome to come visit, though."

"We'll probably wait until next month, as planned, but let us know if you need us to come before then. I don't want to keep you for too long, so let me find Dad so you guys can say hello."

After talking to her dad for a few minutes, Sharon ended the call and pulled her computer into her lap. "These emails never end," she mumbled.

"Oh, yeah, thanks for responding to my professors' emails for me," Rusty said. "I didn't notice them until this morning. If I had replied to them last week, they probably would've been like that girl who emailed her professor about an assignment after being on pain medicine from getting her wisdom teeth taken out, and it, like, went viral. I don't think I could've put together a proper sentence last week." Andy had contacted the registrar's office at UCLA soon after Rusty got sick, and they had notified his professors. Sharon had responded to the emails when she noticed them begin to come through on his phone.

"You're welcome. Are any of them giving you a hard time?"

Rusty shook his head. "Only two of my classes take attendance, but these absences won't count against me. We just had midterms, so, except for a few small writing assignments they've postponed for me, I don't really have to worry about anything until finals, anyway. I'll just need to get lecture notes from some friends and catch up on reading, but that shouldn't be too bad."

"You'll catch up." Sharon gently squeezed his arm and turned her gaze back to her computer screen. Rusty played chess on his computer for a while before his headache began to worsen. Andy had brought it for him the week before. He couldn't read or do anything on his computer for too long except watch movies without it making his head hurt even worse than it already did. The medicine took some of the edge off, but he constantly had a dull headache. He pulled up Netflix and logged in to Sharon's account.

Sharon closed her computer and reached over to put it in the chair she'd occupied earlier. "Headache?"

"Mm-hmm." Rusty navigated to the first season of _Badge of Justice_ and started the first episode. Sharon had mentioned wanting to rewatch old episodes, and the idea of doing so was growing on him, too. He lay against the side of Sharon's arm as they watched, and he was asleep halfway through the fifth episode. Sharon watched one more episode after that, closed his computer, and placed it on top of hers in the chair, intending to take a nap, herself. Elizabeth came in as she was dozing off, so she sat up and started to wake Rusty.

"You don't need to wake him," Elizabeth assured her. "I was just going to get him up to walk around a little bit, but that can wait until he wakes up."

Sharon had noticed a little while ago that Rusty felt warmer against her than he should, so she put her hand on his forehead. "Would you mind checking his temperature? He feels a little warm." When his fever had broken a few days before, she'd been told not to be alarmed if his temperature occasionally jumped back up in the next few weeks, but, now that it had happened, she was a little alarmed. "I know you guys said not to worry if that happens, but..."

"I know. It's easier said than done." Elizabeth pulled out a thermometer and gently placed it in the ear that wasn't pressed into Sharon's arm. "100.4. We'll keep an eye on it, but as long as it doesn't get much higher or hang around for too long, there's no need to worry. This is fairly common." Her expression softened as she watched him sleep. "They're so sweet like this, aren't they?"

Sharon nodded. "He had a rough childhood, so I still 'mother' him as much as he'll let me. I'm going to miss this when he's finished with school and on his own."

"I've been doing this for twenty years, and it's mostly teenagers and young adults that I work with. Even at this age, they sometimes just need Mom." Elizabeth retrieved Rusty's chart and made a few notes. "He needs to sleep as much as he can, but press the call button when he wakes up. He will need to get up and move around a little bit once he's awake."

"I will. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'll be back to check on him soon." Elizabeth replaced Rusty's chart and left the room.

Meanwhile, Andy was at work, and he'd spent most of the morning still stewing about that damn vibrator. He'd had a meeting at work at 12:30, so he hadn't had time to hang around the hospital at all when he took Sharon something for lunch. After seeing her for just a few minutes, though, his thoughts turned from the mere fact that she owned one to the idea of her actually using it as he drove back to work. Now, _that_ image made his internal turmoil over discovering it in her desk well worth it. How had he not thought of this before? He was going to need some further details of her usage, but, until then, he could paint a pretty good picture in his head. Or several pretty good pictures. Great. He could forget getting much work done for the rest of the day. His mind was officially elsewhere.

When Andy brought dinner for Sharon that night, Rusty was in the shower, so they had a few minutes to themselves. Andy kissed Sharon more deeply than he'd been able to under Rusty's disgusted eye that morning and afternoon, so he took a couple of minutes to make up for it. "So, uh, about that _thing_..." Andy began, once he'd reluctantly pulled away.

"Andy, I _told_ you-"

"No, no, I'm not complaining this time. I was just wondering, um, where do you usually use it?"

Sharon gave him a strange look. " _Why_?!"

"The more I've thought about it, the more I've liked the idea of it. I've been thinking about you using that thing all afternoon."

Sharon couldn't help but laugh. It was amazing how little it took to arouse him sometimes. "If you must know, the shower is usually my location of choice."

"Oh, wow. I've conjured up some pretty good images this afternoon, but I didn't even think of _that_! What is it about the shower?"

Sharon shrugged. "The shower nozzle complements it pretty well." (A/N: No, I didn't mean "compliment." The above spelling is the verb form. I've seen people get nitpicky about stuff like this on other fanfics, so I just wanted to clear that up :))

Andy's head fell back. "Oh, my _god_ , are you trying to kill me?! That's got to be the hottest thing I've ever heard."

Sharon smiled wickedly. "You asked, so I answered."

"So, uh, you think that maybe I could, um, watch you use it sometime? As a nonparticipating bystander, of course."

"We'll see," Sharon answered, with a disinterested tone.

Andy looked to the heavens for guidance. This woman was going to be the death of him.


	14. Chapter 14

**If you're wondering why this story is just now showing up in your fanfic listings, it's because I didn't realize people filtered characters for Sharon and Andy (thanks so much for the heads up, xbleeple!). The website didn't require me to include character names, so I didn't do it at all. I know a lot of you have been reading fanfic a lot longer than I have, and filtering may have done some good at one time. But, as someone who is ecstatic when a non-Shandy story pops up (I like them fine on the show and in fanfic, but I also love to read about Sharon pre-Andy), I can tell you that you might be filtering out about five non-Shandy stories a year, if that. You're probably also filtering out some Shandy stories with writers like me who didn't include characters because they didn't have to. My favorite story on this site is actually non-Shandy. Not because of the fact that it's non-Shandy, but because of the other relationships explored and the author's detailed writing style. There's some great non-Shandy fanfic out there, and you might surprise yourself if you'd give it a try. I'm not saying anyone is right or wrong, it's a simple difference of opinion, and this is just a PSA. Listen if you want to, don't listen if you don't want to, it doesn't matter to me. I really don't want this to turn into a "Shandy vs. non-Shandy" thing. I don't need to know whether you agree or disagree, I'm just giving you something to think about. :)**

 **Also, to clear up some confusion there seemed to be about Sharon's age, she's not any younger than on the show. Like I said before, based upon Duff interviews, I guessed her age to be 58-60 when this story was set. That would put her parents being 20-22 when she was born, which was actually a pretty average age for people to start families in the 1950s. None of us know anything about Sharon's parents, and I thought their age was a good guess. Her mom could've gotten pregnant in high school for all we know. :)**

 **Thanks** **so much for reading and reviewing!**

 _Still Tuesday Evening_

Sharon was finished eating by the time Rusty got out of the shower. She moved over to the colder side of the bed when the bathroom door opened and he shuffled back to bed. He'd been complaining about being cold before he got in the shower, so she held his blanket up and tucked it around him when he got back in bed. "Better?"

Rusty nodded. He'd stayed in the shower longer than normal, as he hated getting out when he had a fever, because it was so damn cold, but a warm bed that smelled like Sharon was the best thing ever when he was sick. "But, Mom, please go home. I know you're tired of being here."

"No, honey, I'm not leaving you here by yourself."

"I thought you wanted me to rest!" Rusty protested. "How much sleep do you think I'm getting with you snoring all night? It's bad enough at home, but at least there's more room and two closed doors between us there."

"I do _not_ snore!" Sharon said indignantly. She looked at Andy for confirmation.

"Of course you don't," Andy said patronizingly. "Although, oddly enough, that freight train that likes to circle the condo at night has finally stopped..." He gave Rusty a conspiratorial look. "Just get up and turn her on her side if she gets too bad. It's kind of scary at first-it seems like she's going to inhale you, but she won't, I promise."

"Nice," Rusty scoffed. " _Now_ you tell me."

Sharon looked from one to the other over her glasses. "You two can stop ganging up on me at any time. You have my permission...I don't _snore_ , do I?!"

Rusty shrugged. "How you've never woken yourself up is a mystery to me. You're right, though, it's time for a new victim...So, while we're airing household grievances, let's talk about Andy's little skid mark problem. Come on, Andy, a courtesy flush every now and then would be nice."

Sharon looked confused. Now that she was outnumbered, and even more so when Ricky was visiting and Emily wasn't, she was increasingly aware of the fact that males never grow out of "bathroom humor." This was a new one, though. "What's a skid mark-oh, my god!" She shrieked with laughter as realization dawned on her. "You're right, Rusty, I could do without those, too. Especially since I'm usually the one that cleans the bathroom." A good thing about living with someone who had been a bachelor for so long was that Andy was used to having to keep things reasonably clean himself and usually pitched in with chores, but their ideas about how often certain things should be done differed greatly. Except bedroom 'chores,' of course. They were in perfect agreement on that.

"Okay, okay," Andy grumbled. "I lived alone for a long time and didn't have to worry about anyone going to the bathroom right after me! I think it's the kid's turn."

Rusty rolled his eyes. "I have to see you two being disgusting all the time. _Every_ day is the _kid's turn_."

Andy raised his eyebrows. "Huh. Well, if _that's_ your theory, then you haven't had your turn yet today..." Andy made exaggerated movements toward Sharon.

"Andyyyyy, I'm already nauseous!" Rusty whined. "And, while we're on that, you leave the toilet seat up a lot, too."

"I only do that as payback when your mom forgets to get her hair out of the drain after she takes a shower," Andy countered. "Talk about disgusting. How there's any hair left on her head is beyond me."

Rusty wrinkled his nose. "Yeah, that is pretty gross."

"Wait a minute, how did this circle back to me?!" Sharon tried to muster a proper glare, but she failed miserably. "All right, fine. Keep it up. I'll get you back."

Rusty gave Andy a knowing look. "She's bluffing."

Andy grinned. "You think I don't know that?"

Sharon glared at both of them, having found the ability to do so. "I wouldn't be too sure about that if I were you."

Andy gathered his things and went to kiss Sharon before he left. "I'm shaking in my boots."

Sharon swatted at him before she let him kiss her. "Yeah, you should be."

Andy kissed her as deeply as he could without Rusty starting to whine. He'd had enough practice to know how far he could go before the kid started bitching about it. "Call me if you need anything." He patted Rusty's shoulder and left the room.

Sharon smoothed her hand over Rusty's forehead and lingered on his cheek for a few moments. "I think your temperature's going back down. I hope you can still go home this week."

"God, me too. This place sucks."

"You're telling me."

 **MCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMC**

By the following Monday, Rusty had been discharged and was resting comfortably at home. He still wasn't feeling too well, so Sharon wasn't going back to work for another week, meetings or a rollout aside. He had a follow-up appointment with Dr. Blakely, his primary care doctor, on Tuesday afternoon, which Gus had volunteered to take him to, so Sharon and Andy had decided to wait until then for their own little reunion. They'd done _stuff_ since Sharon came home, but they'd decided to wait for an empty condo before rocking her bed halfway across the room.

Late Monday afternoon, Sharon sat on the balcony, playing music from her phone and sipping a glass of wine, while Rusty napped on the couch. She'd spent most of the day on the couch with him. It had been a long time since they'd had so much one-on-one time, and she'd missed it. Rusty hadn't said as much, but she could tell he'd missed it, too. When it was time to start dinner, she dragged herself inside and turned the TV down on the way to the kitchen, since Rusty was unconscious and obviously wouldn't notice. His appetite hadn't improved much, so she'd been bribing him with his favorite foods to try to get him to eat since they'd gotten home. She sang along to her music and occasionally sipped her wine as she pulled things from the cabinets and got dinner started. " _Well I tried to make it Sunday, but I got so damn depressed, that I set my sights on Monday, and I got myself undressed_..."

"Ahh, getting you undressed...Will _that_ ever happen again?" Andy had slipped in and already managed to change clothes without Sharon realizing it.

Sharon rested her arms on top of Andy's as he wrapped them around her waist. "I'm just as ready for it as you are, I can assure you." She broke away from Andy so she could stir her spaghetti sauce, and Andy started unpacking the groceries he'd bought on the way home. " _Will you meet me in the middle, will you meet me in the air. Will you love me just a little_ -"

"Tell me about it," Andy mumbled, interrupting Sharon's singing.

"Andy, stop it!" Sharon giggled.

"Okay, fine, I'm done. Wow, this song takes me back to the patio of the Sigma Xi house. I was a junior in college when it was popular."

"I was a junior, too..." Sharon grinned. "In _high_ school."

"Damn, woman, do you have to shove your youth in my face every chance you get?!"

Sharon tilted her head. "Well...Yes. Actually."

Andy rolled his eyes. "You're lucky you're hot, you know that? Need any help?"

Sharon shook her head. "I'm almost finished. What are you doing for dinner? I thought you were picking something up on the way home." It wasn't uncommon for them to eat two different meals at dinner time. Even before his heart attack, Andy had preferred healthy food. Sharon tried to eat more healthily, but she wasn't as committed to it as Andy was. She allowed herself to indulge a good bit, which she liked to blame on Rusty. As he'd put it when she informed him that Andy was moving in, 'Please, just keep the sucking face in front of me to a minimum, and I'm not eating bird food every day.' She didn't have the time or desire to cook very often, but when she did, it wasn't 'bird food' that she wanted to cook. Andy cooked for them a good bit, but she didn't feel guilty about sometimes cooking separately for her and Rusty, since she knew Andy wouldn't want it, anyway.

"I knew you were cooking spaghetti, and I have some marinara sauce in the freezer. You're using whole wheat noodles, aren't you?"

Sharon nodded. "See, I can be healthy." Hell, once she'd smothered her noodles in spaghetti sauce, she could hardly tell the difference, so she might as well.

Andy gave her a knowing look. "Yeah, all the good that does, once you've eaten a salad that's floating in dressing and a bowl of 'spaghetti' that's mostly fattening _meat_ sauce." He stood behind the couch and turned the TV to the news. "How's he been today?" He asked, nodding down at Rusty's sleeping form. He reached down and lightly rubbed his back for a moment. He'd lost a few pounds from not having much of an appetite in the last couple of weeks, not to mention being sick to his stomach, and he was pale and moved around like a zombie the few times he moved from the couch or his bed. Andy could see why Sharon didn't want to leave him alone yet.

Sharon brushed her hair out of her face with her forearm, trying to keep her messy hands from touching her hair. "He's been a little sluggish today, and he's slept more today than he has any other day in the last week." She washed her hands and dried them with a dish towel before fishing the thermometer out of the medicine cabinet. "I've been meaning to check his temperature... _What_?" She demanded when she saw the look on Andy's face. "I _know_ the doctor said not to worry if he started running a fever again, but he also said that his immunity is down, so he might've caught something else. He's been horizontal all day."

Rusty woke up while this conversation was taking place, but he wasn't ready to open his eyes. He smiled to himself when he heard Sharon talking about him. He still loved it when she got so concerned about him. He could smell dinner cooking and hear Sharon's music playing from her phone in the kitchen. He'd woken up to similar surroundings several times in the last few years when he'd been sick or tired enough to nap during the day. The familiar sounds and smells were comforting, but it made him a little sad. He didn't want to think about being sick once he wasn't living with Sharon anymore and not having her there to take care of him. This thought was reinforced when he felt her sit beside him on the couch with her soft hand on his forehead. "Hmm, hey, Mom," he murmured. He felt her hair brushing against his face and could tell she was kissing his forehead before he felt it. Now that her hair was shorter, the ends hit his face awkwardly and tickled him. "I miss your longer hair," he groaned.

" _My_ hair? Honey. My haircut didn't make me look like a prison guard." Sharon's hand went back to his forehead. She missed there being shaggy bangs to brush back and smooth back down when she did that.

"Mo- _om_ , seriously?!"

"Sorry." Sharon studied him for a few moments. "You don't feel like you have a fever, but I need to check your temperature. You seem a little worse today than you were yesterday."

"I'm trying to remember what it's like _not_ to have a headache."

"I'll give you some medicine after I take your temperature. Open up." Sharon held up the thermometer.

"Mom, do you have to?! You know the second my temperature hits, like, 98.65. _Without_ a thermometer."

"I need peace of mind. Stop whining and just do it." Sharon slipped the thermometer into Rusty's mouth when he started to protest again. He glared at her as the thermometer started its incessant beeping. She pulled it out when it emitted its final beep. "No fever..."

" _Told_ you," Rusty grumbled. "You could be a temperature guesser at a carnival."

Sharon placed the thermometer on the table beside the couch. "As much of a demand as there is for that, I think I'll pass. How are you feeling?"

"The same as the last eighteen times you asked me that."

"All right, I'll stop torturing you. For now." Sharon gave Rusty his medicine before sitting beside him and looking around for the remote. " _Who_ turned this to the news when the Rams are playing?!"

"That would be your boyfriend. I value my life a little more than that," Rusty mumbled as he put his pillow in her lap and lay down. He didn't care how old he was, this was the fastest way he knew of to feel less miserable.

Sharon rubbed small circles into his forehead with her fingers as she watched the game, trying to soothe his headache. She could still hear the music playing from her phone in the kitchen, and she sang along for a couple of lines at intermittent intervals. " _Here_ _comes the sun, doo doo doo doo, here comes the sun, and I say, it's all right_ -are you kidding me?! That was _not_ a hold!"

"Mind the headache, Mom," Rusty complained when her soft singing was interrupted by her screams at the TV.

"Sorry, honey...But that was a terrible call!"

Rusty nodded with false sympathy. "Sounds tragic."

"It _was_."

"Sharon? I'm going to go ahead and start the pasta," Andy said a little while later.

Sharon nodded. "Break the noodles into three pieces instead of two, please, so they'll be easier for him to eat. And would you mind tossing a salad? I'm getting hungry."

"Sure. I could eat now, too." Andy got the pasta started and returned with salads for both of them and the bottle of Italian Dressing for Sharon. "You're going to have to clog your arteries on your own time. I'm not doing it."

"Ha, ha. Thanks, honey." Sharon put what she considered to be a perfectly normal amount of dressing on her salad and began eating.

Rusty turned his attention from the TV to Sharon's salad. "Damn, Mom, I think there's some lettuce in the fridge if you want some to go with your dressing."

Sharon rolled her eyes. "Last time I checked, I was a grown-up and could put whatever the hell I wanted on my salad."

Rusty nodded. "You're right, Mom...I just think you're using the term 'salad' a little loosely, here."

"Fine, keep it up," Sharon said loftily. "Payback will be that much sweeter."

Rusty rolled his eyes. "You are so full of crap."

 **MCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMC**

On Tuesday afternoon, Andy got home soon after Rusty and Gus left for his appointment. He'd brushed up on his research from 'The Google' the week before, and he had a game plan. Sharon would forget that damn vibrator ever existed. When they started heating up in the bedroom, Andy slipped a pillow under Sharon for an angle that would help her climax. "Andy, what the _hell_ are you doing?" Sharon demanded. He'd been different since the first kiss when he got home. They didn't always do everything exactly the same, of course, but nothing so far this time had been Andy's style. She hadn't commented on it yet, but she drew the line at getting a pillow involved.

"It's a better angle to help you...Well, _you_ know."

Sharon rolled her eyes and tossed the pillow off of the bed. "Is this about the vibrator? I told you, that has nothing to do with you!"

"I just don't get it!" Andy looked frustrated. "I should be enough for you."

"It's not about you being _enough_. I told you this before. There are just times when I prefer to do this alone. Like watching baseball. Sometimes you like to do that with Louie, and sometimes you'd rather watch a game by yourself. Same thing."

"Oh, god, did you seriously just bring Provenza into this?!" Andy groaned. "That's a boner-killer if I've _ever_ heard one. I don't think I'll be able to do it for another week!"

"Challenge accepted." Sharon slipped out from underneath Andy and repositioned herself on top of him. "I don't want anything you've gotten from the internet or the Kama Sutra lately. Just you." They picked up where they'd left off, and they were more in sync this time. It wasn't long before she felt a familiar and more-than-welcome pressure against her. "Told you so," Sharon said smugly.

"Shh, you might scare it away," Andy murmured.

"Well, we can't have that." They picked up the pace with renewed fervor, and by the time they were finished and lying together, exhausted, Andy was quite pleased with himself. There was no way in hell that stupid vibrator could possibly elicit the screams from Sharon with which he'd just been rewarded. Even when they were alone, Sharon tried to show her pleasure without being too loud about it, because she didn't like to appear to not be in control of herself. She'd failed miserably this time, though. "I hope the neighbors don't call 911," Sharon murmured. "I sounded like someone was killing me!"

Andy grinned. "You're going to have to get on top more often."

"I may not be able to walk tomorrow, but it will be worth it."

Andy's face clouded over in concern. "Did I hurt you?"

"Don't worry. It's the good kind of pain, and it was self-inflicted." Sharon got out of bed and went to the bathroom. As much as she wanted to stay in bed, Rusty would be home soon, and she didn't like to wait too long after sex to pee and get herself cleaned up. When she was dressed again, she got back in bed beside Andy and let him hold her. She hadn't felt this relaxed in a long time. Gavin had been right a couple of days before when she'd supposedly lashed out at him via text-she needed to get laid.

When Rusty got home, Sharon and Andy were on the balcony, stretched out in lounge chairs and listening to music. Sharon put her glass of wine on the table beside her and slid over in her chair when Rusty came outside. He sat beside her and lay back, worn out from being upright for so long. She wrapped her arm around him and kissed the side of his head. "What did the doctor say?"

"She said I'm doing fine so far, but since I didn't have any obvious risk factors for Meningitis, she did some blood tests to see if they show anything that would affect my immunity. Or something. If they don't show anything, then she'll probably order more tests...Andy? You're home early."

"Yeah, uh, it was a, um, slow day." Andy turned away from Rusty and choked back a laugh.

Sharon didn't like not being the one to go with Rusty to his appointment, but she trusted Gus to pay attention and fill in the blanks for her. "Gus didn't want to stay for dinner?"

Rusty shook his head. "He has to work tonight. His Uber was, like, two seconds away, so he didn't have time to come back up and say hello again...What are we doing for dinner, anyway?"

"We'll just order in," Sharon said vaguely. In her newly-relaxed state, a brilliant, yet slightly diabolical, plan had come to her to get back at Rusty and Andy for double-teaming her. They'd think twice about mocking her threats of payback again. Or being polite and Febrezing the bathroom when she left it in a less-than-desirable state. They'd be begging for the Febreze the next morning. And there was no way that she could surpass some of the odors she'd walked into after Rusty had been in there with his phone or Andy with the newspaper, so she wasn't going to let herself be embarrassed about it.

A couple of hours later, the late October evening was growing cool, and Andy was getting hungry. "What do you want to do for dinner? I'll go ahead and order it, I'm ready to eat."

"I've already ordered it," Sharon said, holding up her phone. The beauty of online ordering was being able to do it silently. "It should be here soon, so we should probably go on inside." Rusty had passed out against her shoulder not long after he got home, so she gently shook him to wake him up. "Dinner will be here soon, so we need to go inside."

"'Kay..." Rusty yawned and peered up at Sharon through sleepy eyes. "What are we having?"

Sharon grinned evilly. "Indian food. If you don't feel like eating it, I'll warm up some leftover spaghetti for you." (A/N: this was explained in chapter 9, in case you missed that chapter and are confused.)

Rusty jumped away from her like the effects of the Indian food had already hit her and nearly fell over the arm rest in his haste to stand up. Sharon certainly hadn't seen him move nearly that quickly in the last three weeks. "Mooooom! I _just_ got out of the hospital! _Why_ are you trying to send me back?!"

"I would do no such thing," Sharon said indignantly. "And don't worry, Andy, their heart-healthy options were specified on the menu."

"I don't think _that's_ why he looks horrified," Rusty muttered.

"I tried to warn you about payback," Sharon reminded him.

"Ughhhh, Mom, when I said you were full of crap last night, I didn't mean for you to take me literally!"

Sharon grinned. "Too late."


	15. Chapter 15

**So, Chapter 14 was inadvertently my last chapter. I realized I had nowhere else to go with it, and I'm excited about my next story, so I'm going to do a couple of requests I got about events mentioned earlier in the story first. Sorry for the abrupt ending! Go easy on me, it's my first story. :)**

 _December 2012_

Sharon leaned against her dad in the swing on the screened-in porch of their timeshare in Park City, gazing out at the snow-covered mountains as she sipped her red wine. White was usually her wine of choice, but she loved red wine in cold weather. The sun was beginning to set, and while she enjoyed the rare occasion where she needed her winter clothes, the fireplace on the porch kept her more than warm enough. The last few months had been a roller coaster with her new job and new teenager, but things had calmed down on both fronts, and she felt truly relaxed for the first time in a long time. It was the day after Christmas, and there wasn't a damn thing she had to do until 2013. She, her children, and most of the remaining family members had spent most of the day skiing. Well, Rusty had gone down the bunny slope a couple of times and camped out in the lodge after she arranged for him take a lesson, but she wasn't that surprised. Skiing was supposedly easier to learn as a child, and she'd learned to ski when she was small and had taught Emily and Ricky as children. She smiled as she looked over at Rusty. The outdoor fireplace kept the porch pretty warm, but he was huddled up on the hearth, practically in the fire. He'd been dramatic about the cold weather since they'd flown in the day before Christmas Eve.

Rusty was sitting as close to the fire as he could get, but he was barely warm enough. He thought the cold weather was the culprit for the sore throat and chills he'd had since that morning, but he'd been steadily feeling worse all afternoon. Sharon seemed so relaxed, and he hated to bother her, so he went inside to get some of the Tylenol he knew she kept in her purse. He wasn't uncomfortable around her anymore, but her family was a little overwhelming. Sharon had warned him during the plane ride that her family was very "Irish," which, among other things, involved being loud and having no sense of personal space. He liked them all well enough, but they could be exhausting. Emily came in the living room with a refilled glass of wine as soon as he popped two pills into his mouth. "What's the matter?"

Rusty jumped. "Oh! Um, nothing."

Emily gave him a shrewd look. "You look awful. I'm surprised Mom hasn't noticed yet, but she will soon. You might as well go ahead and tell her so she can help you feel better."

"No, and please don't tell her," Rusty pleaded. He got a blanket and followed her back outside.

"Fine, but it's only a matter of time before she's on your ass," Emily advised. They ran into Sharon's sister on the way out.

"What are you the two of you up to?" Alice asked.

"Rusty's sick," Emily informed her.

" _Emily_!" Rusty hissed.

"What?" Emily asked innocently. "I said I wouldn't tell _Mom_. Does this look like Mom?"

"Actually, yes," Rusty grumbled. "Freakishly so." Sharon and her sister could've almost passed for twins. He wasn't a bit surprised when Alice's hand was immediately on his forehead.

"Sharon, Rusty has a fever," Alice reported.

"What?" Sharon snapped out of her daze and looked over at Rusty. He did look sick, and she couldn't believe she hadn't noticed before now. She shifted closer to her dad to make more room beside her on the swing. "Come here, honey." Rusty walked over to her and slumped beside her in the swing. Sharon brushed his bangs back and held her hand to his forehead. "You do feel warm," she agreed as she looked him over. "What hurts?"

"Throat," he muttered.

Sharon brushed her fingers through his hair as he lay against her and gently prodded along each side of his neck with her other hand. "You have a couple of swollen glands, too. Em? Go find Nana and ask her for the thermometer, please. I'm not sure where it is."

Emily had just settled back in her chair and rolled her eyes as she reached for her phone. "God, Mom, you are so archaic." She scrolled through her phone for a moment before Sharon could hear the house phone ringing inside.

"Emily! You didn't—"

"Hi, Nana, Mom needs the thermometer. Will you bring it when you come back out here, please?" Emily requested, ignoring Sharon. "Thanks."

" _Emily_ ," Sharon chastised. She looked up a couple of minutes later when her mom came outside. "I'm sorry, Mom, I told Emily to _go_ ask you for the thermometer. _Not_ to call you."

"It's all right, I was about to come back out, anyway. Who's sick—never mind." The older Emily spotted Rusty and handed Sharon the thermometer. "What's wrong? Hmm, he does have a fever," she murmured as she smoothed his hair back from his forehead.

"His throat hurts, and I think he probably feels a little achy and has chills, too."

"One of the Taylors must've been sick while they were here for Thanksgiving. There's some medicine in the kitchen that wasn't here this summer, I'll see what I can find." Sharon's mom disappeared into the house as Sharon turned the thermometer on and slipped it into Rusty's mouth.

"102..." Sharon said a couple of minutes later. "How badly does your throat hurt?"

Rusty shrugged. "It's not too bad."

"Tell me if it gets any worse. I may need to take you to a walk-in clinic tomorrow. I'm afraid you might have Strep Throat."

"Noooo, Sharon, I'm fine," Rusty whined.

"We'll see." Sharon turned the thermometer off and put it on the table beside her. "Do you want to stay out here or go lie down? I'll come inside with you if you want to lie down."

"Stay here."

"Okay." Sharon spread the blanket he'd brought outside over him. "Are you warm enough?"

"Mm-hmm."

Sharon's mom came back outside and gave Rusty some medicine and a mug of a concoction he couldn't identify. He looked down into the mug and wrinkled his nose. "Don't ask questions, honey, but it'll make your throat feel a little better."

"Nana's right," Sharon said. "It doesn't taste that bad, and it'll help you feel better. Drink it while it's still hot. It'll help, I promise." Sharon had been there and done that and spoke from experience. Rusty held his breath and drank...whatever it was as quickly as he could. He had to admit that it did temporarily provide a little bit of relief. He followed Sharon inside when she, her mom, and her sister went inside to get dinner started and collapsed on the couch in front of the fire. Emily and Ricky were arguing over what to watch on TV as he fell asleep, and he was vaguely aware of Sharon, Alice, and Emily Senior coming to check on him what seemed like every five minutes. A couple of hours later, he sensed that the living room was empty, and the loud chatter coming from the dining room indicated that everyone else was eating dinner. He rolled over and went back to sleep, grateful that he didn't have to go to the table. Food was the furthest thing from his mind. When he woke up again, the noise had migrated to the living room, and he could tell Sharon was beside him. "Hey, how are you feeling?"

"Crap," Rusty muttered. His head felt heavy, and he was having a harder time staying warm than before. He wasn't a bit surprised to feel Sharon's hand on his forehead.

"Your fever went up a good bit. Why didn't you tell me you were feeling worse?" Sharon chided.

"Just found out," Rusty mumbled.

"All right. Are you hungry? Nana made some soup for you, and I can bring you some if you want it. You can eat it when you're feeling a little better if you don't want it now, though."

"Nuh-uh."

"That's okay. Do you want to get in bed?" Rusty shook his head and buried his face against her. "Okay. You can stay out here. I just thought you might be a little more comfortable in bed."

"How is he?" Sharon's mom shifted closer to her and touched her new grandson's forehead.

"Not good. I'm going to have to take him to a walk-in clinic in the morning... _Yes_ , you're going," Sharon said when Rusty made his 'I'm about to start whining' face. "We're flying home on Sunday, and you'll be miserable if you're still sick."

"He does feel hot," her mom agreed.

"Nana? I can't believe I'm saying this, but can I have more of that gross stuff you gave me earlier?" Rusty croaked.

"Sure, honey." She left and came back in with a steaming mug.

The grandparents went to bed a little while later, and Sharon's brother, Robert, turned in as well, as he was flying out early the next morning. He was divorced, and Alice's husband had already had to leave. Sharon didn't miss the smirk on the younger Emily's face. "Do I even want to know what you're thinking?"

Emily shrugged. "Probably not...So, who else thinks that Nana and Granddad still do it? _Ouch_!" She protested when Ricky threw a pillow at the back of her head.

"Wimp. That didn't hurt," Ricky said.

Sharon almost spit out her wine. " _Em_! You're right, I didn't want to know."

"You don't want the bedroom beside theirs, either," Alice deadpanned.

It was Emily's turn to look horrified. "I was joking! Aunt _Alice_ , please tell me you're kidding."

"Want to trade rooms with me tonight and find out?" Alice shot back.

Emily shook her head. "Ew, no. _That_ took an unexpected turn."

"That's what you get, rotten child." Sharon handed Emily her empty wine glass. "I'm going to need some more wine after _that_ image."

"Fine," Emily huffed. "I need more, too. _I_ was just kidding until Aunt Alice had to ruin my life."

Alice raised an eyebrow. "You started it, kid."

On Thursday morning, Sharon groaned when her alarm went off at 6:30. She'd had an uncharacteristic four glasses of wine the night before, and she needed coffee and Advil. The urgent care center downtown opened at 7:30, and it would be close to that by the time she and Rusty got dressed and down the mountain, and she wanted to get there as early as possible and hopefully not have to wait too long. She slipped through the bathroom between her and Rusty's bedrooms to check on him, hoping he was somehow much better and she could go back to bed, but the child was still burning up. The taste of wine still lingered in her mouth, despite brushing her teeth before going to bed the night before, so she turned the shower on and brushed her teeth while the water got hot. She tied her hair back and quickly rinsed off in the shower before tying her silk robe around herself and approaching the formidable task of waking up a sick teenager at 6:30 in the morning when it was below freezing outside. "Rusty? Wake up, honey," she murmured as she pulled his covers off of him and patted his back.

"It's _cold_ , Sharon!" Rusty whined, blindly clawing around himself, trying to find his covers. His voice sounded painful.

"You need to get in the shower so we can go to the doctor. If we get there when they open, then we shouldn't have to wait too long." Sharon pushed his covers to the end of his mattress and prodded him out of bed.

"Okay, I'm _up_."

"All right. Come to the kitchen when you're ready. If you have any interest in continuing to have the luxury of closed doors when you want them, then I don't recommend going back to bed, young man." Sharon dug some clothes out of his suitcase for him and pressed them into his arms.

" _Okay_." Rusty took the clothes from her and shuffled into the bathroom.

Sharon got dressed and put on minimal makeup before going to the kitchen in search of coffee. Her dad was sitting at the bar with a mug of coffee and reading the newspaper. "Morning, darling...How late did you guys stay up last night?" James asked, taking in her bleary eyes and the expression he recognized as her having a headache.

"Not very...Your daughter and granddaughter are just out of control," Sharon mumbled as she stumbled to the coffee pot.

"No, honey. They're your mother's daughter and granddaughter when they're out of control. That's all her." He got up and rooted through the medicine cabinet while Sharon got her coffee.

"Tell me about it." Sharon accepted two pills from her dad's hand. "Thanks, Dad."

"You're welcome. Is Rusty feeling any better?"

Sharon shook her head. "He still feels like he has a pretty high fever, and he sounds terrible. I'm going to take him to the Concentra downtown as soon as it opens."

"Okay, but hurry back. It's supposed to start snowing again this afternoon."

"I'm 54, Dad, I think you can stop worrying about me. I can drive in the snow." Sharon cradled her coffee mug in her hands and enjoyed its warmth for a few moments before taking a sip.

"I know, but I'd rather you guys not be out in it." He kissed her cheek and went back to his newspaper.

Sharon's mom came in a few minutes later and kissed James. Sharon had seen them do this countless times in the mornings, but...Did they stare at each other a little too long after they pulled apart? Oh, gross. She was going to kill Alice and Emily in their sleep. "Ugh," Sharon moaned, not meaning for the sound to be audible.

Her mom looked over at her. "What?"

"Nothing...Um, headache," Sharon stammered.

Her mom looked around the kitchen. "You guys _did_ put away some wine last night. How's the patient?"

"I'll be better when the Advil kicks in." Sharon rested her elbow against the counter and pressed her forehead into the heel of her hand.

Emily smiled. "I was talking about the _sick_ one. Not the _hungover_ one."

"I'm _not_ hungover," Sharon insisted. "Just a little headache. And Rusty's feeling a little worse this morning, so I'm going to take him to one of the urgent care centers downtown as soon as he's dressed."

"Okay, but don't dawdle. It's-"

"Supposed to snow. I heard. Speaking of which, we need to leave. I need to make sure he's out of the shower." Sharon finished her coffee and walked down the hall to Rusty's room. He met her just outside of his door. "You ready?"

Rusty nodded. "Do I _have_ to—"

"Yes. Let's go." Sharon grabbed her purse out of her room and led Rusty down the hall. An hour later, she'd barely had him signed in at one of the urgent care centers in Park City before his name was being called by a nurse. Sharon quickly finished off the form she was filling out for him before giving it to the receptionist and leading him to the waiting nurse. After taking Rusty's vitals and some small talk about why they were visiting Park City, the nurse inquired about his symptoms. "He had a sore throat and a fever all day yesterday, and his throat and fever have been getting worse," Sharon explained when Rusty gave her a pleading 'please don't make me talk' look. "We're flying home on Sunday, so if he has Strep, I wanted him to go ahead and get started with an antibiotic."

The nurse peered into Rusty's throat and swept her fingers along his neck, much like Sharon had done the day before. "Strep is a possibility, so I'm going to go ahead and swab his throat. Dr. Peterson will be in soon to examine him and will decide whether further tests need to be done."

Sharon offered her hand as the nurse swabbed Rusty's throat, knowing it would make him gag. Rusty was confused at first, but gratefully squeezed it as the q-tip-like thing being stuck down his throat made him involuntarily dry heave. The doctor came in a few minutes later, asked a few questions, and proceeded to examine him. "My goodness, you've been feeling pretty rough," she commented as she shone her light into his inflamed throat. Rusty nodded in agreement and winced as her hands moved along each side of his neck to check his lymph nodes for herself. "We're almost done," she assured him. "I just need to peek into your nose and ears really quickly to make sure nothing else is going on, and then your throat culture should be ready. You're not allergic to anything that you're aware of, correct?" Sharon and Rusty both nodded.

A little while later, a diagnosis of Strep Throat was confirmed, Sharon had picked up a few groceries and prescriptions for an antibiotic and a steroid for more immediate throat relief, and they were on the way back to the cabin. When they got back, Sharon led Rusty inside, gave him his medicine, and got him settled on the couch before going back down to her rental car for the groceries. She turned toward the house with her hands full and was immediately pelted in the face with a snowball from above. She looked up and was surprised to see Robert. "What are you doing here? I thought you flew out this morning."

"My flight was canceled because of the snow. Park City isn't closed yet, but every airport in New York is shut down."

"Asshole," Sharon muttered, careful not to show her annoyance so he wouldn't suspect revenge. She wiped her face as well as she could with her arm before making her way up the stairs to the kitchen. Her mom and Alice were both doting over Rusty. He was almost asleep in her mom's lap, so Sharon went outside to talk to Robert.

Soon after lunch, with Rusty asleep on the couch, everyone else was sitting on the porch. Robert was stoking the fire, so Sharon enlisted Emily's and Ricky's help to get him back. They quietly made snowballs on the outdoor part of the porch. "Show no mercy," Sharon instructed. "Pack these as tightly as you can, and hit him in the face as hard as you can. You have my permission."

"Well, the sun's over the yardarm," Robert commented when he was satisfied with the fire. "Where did Sharon go? She might be ready for a drink, too."

"She must've had the same idea," James answered.

Sharon waited until Robert was almost to the door to the house before opening the screen door and hurling her snowball at him. "Wha—okay, okay, you got me back," he grumbled. Sharon stepped aside and signaled for Emily and Ricky to attack. "Whoa, now, this isn't fair!" Robert protested after being hit by the second and third snowball.

"You should know by now that the big sister always wins," Sharon said loftily.

"Never. Fix your own damn drink," Robert mumbled.

"Will do." Sharon followed her brother inside and checked on Rusty before making a White Russian. It had to be cold outside for her to want one of those, which never happened in LA. They talked and drank on the porch for the rest of the afternoon, and by the time they went inside to start dinner, Rusty was waking up. Sharon put her empty wine glass beside the sink and went to check on him. "Hi, honey, how are you feeling?"

"Ughhhh...Hmm, actually a little better."

"The medicine works pretty fast." Sharon sat on the edge of the couch and felt his forehead. "Your temperature's still a little high, but you do sound better. Do you think you could eat some soup?" Rusty nodded. Now that he was feeling a little better, he was hungry after not eating much the day before. Sharon brought him some soup and sat with him while he ate.

Early the next morning, Rusty woke up and was itching like crazy. He'd been slightly itchy since the evening before, but he hadn't thought much of it. It was worse now, though. He stumbled into the bathroom and lifted his shirt over his head to see what the hell was going on. His arms, chest, and back were covered in hives. In a panic, he burst into Sharon's adjoining room. "Sharon! Wake up. Something's wrong," Rusty urged, gently shaking her.

Sharon sat up and turned her lamp on. "What's the matter?" She asked drowsily, squinting up at Rusty. "Oh, my...Um, let's go into the kitchen," she said when she noticed the hives, hoping her mom would wake up. This was new territory for her, and she had no idea what to do. She led Rusty to the kitchen, got a glass of water for him, and started the coffee. Sure enough, the movement was enough to draw the older Emily out of bed.

"What's wrong?" Emily asked, rubbing her eyes as she came into the kitchen.

"I think Rusty's having a reaction to his antibiotic," Sharon said worriedly.

Emily looked over at Rusty, who was still clad in only his pajama pants. "Hmmm...Let's give him some Benadryl, and you can call that doctor's office you took him to yesterday when it opens."

"I don't need to take him somewhere now?" Sharon asked. "Are you sure it's okay to give him Benadryl?"

"Yes, honey," Emily said patiently. She dug through the medicine cabinet, pulled out a bottle of Benadryl, and carefully poured some into a spoon. Rusty tiredly opened his mouth when she offered it to him, too tired to insist that he could do it himself. It felt amazing to feel so taken care of. "You'll be okay, sweetheart." Emily kissed Rusty's cheek, led him to the couch, and tucked him in in front of the fire. Sharon poured a cup of coffee and sat on the couch with his head in her lap.

"Go back to bed, Mom, I'm sorry we woke you up."

Emily dampened a couple of rags with warm water and sat on the edge of the couch. "No, it's okay. I don't think I could go back to sleep." She brushed Rusty's bangs back from his forehead and gently ran the warm compresses over the areas that seemed to be the itchiest. "Is this helping?"

"Mm-hmm." Rusty cuddled into Sharon, and they were both soon sleeping again. Sharon got up a couple of hours later to call the doctor's office to see if she needed to take him back. She did have to take him back, but after a quick exam, a prescription for a different antibiotic , and assurances that the hives would go away in the next day or so, they were back at the cabin before lunchtime. Sharon gave Rusty his medicine and settled him on the couch in front of the fire. She wrapped a couple of blankets around him and kissed his forehead. "Hmm, your fever's finally going down a little bit. Feel better, honey."

"Thanks for taking care of me," Rusty mumbled. "Tell Nana and Aunt Alice, too."

"I will, but you don't need to thank any of us. You're one of us, now, whether you like it or not. We'll always take care of you." Sharon curled up on the overstuffed, cozy couch with her sick son as they both drifted off for a nap.


	16. Chapter 16

_**Thanks for still reading and reviewing! I think I subconsciously wrote the interactions between Rusty and Sharon's mom in the last chapter with another story,**_ **Little Sister,** _ **in mind, as I had recently reread it when I wrote the last chapter. Rusty and Sharon's mom have an adorable relationship in that story, and it does a good job of explaining Rusty calling her by the same "grandmother" name as Emily and Ricky so quickly. I didn't really want to get into that and interrupt the flow of the last chapter. And the previous chapter was set in 2012, which is two years after Sharon's parents were "skiing with her kids," (yes, I rewatched that episode of the Closer to confirm), so I'm guessing they were still well enough to at least travel two years later, but no one knows. I'm actually hoping they'll at least be mentioned in tonight's episode, though.**_

 _ **Request #2**_

Sharon came home from work, surprised to find Emily's car parked in the driveway. It was the summer after her freshman year of college, and she had two weeks of freedom before working at the dance studio she'd attended as a child for the rest of the summer. She thought Emily would've been out with her friends, as they were all slowly arriving home from their various colleges for the summer. She walked through the garage door and found Ricky doing his homework at the kitchen table with an open bag of Doritos beside him. Emily was nowhere to be found. "Hi, honey. How was school?"

"Fine. Can Drew's mom please start bringing me home from school again? It was embarrassing being picked up by Cousin It today."

"What?"

Ricky crammed a few chips into his mouth before answering. "Twinkle toes didn't even get out of her pajamas and rolled up to St. Joseph's looking like a zombie. I'm surprised the nuns didn't call the cops. She looked like she was strung out on meth."

"Ricky!"

"Well, she did. Go see for yourself." Ricky got up and threw the empty bag away. "What's for dinner?"

"I just bought those yesterday, Ricky!" Sharon chided. "And I think I'll just do spaghetti. I'm tired." She stepped out of her heels and took her glasses off, rubbing her eyes. "Where is she?"

"She's been chained to the couch since we got home. It looked like she'd been there for most of the day."

"Is she sick?" Sharon had noticed that Emily seemed tired since she came home from school, but she'd attributed that to finals. It had been over a week, now, and she seemed to be getting more tired, not less.

Ricky shrugged. "How the hell would I know? She didn't say she was, but that doesn't mean anything."

Sharon pointed her finger at Ricky. "Language, young man." She walked into the living room to see about Emily. She was curled up on the couch under the comforter from Sharon's bed, staring blankly at the TV. "Em? You okay?" Sharon ran her fingers through her daughter's hair, pausing ever so slightly at the edge of her hairline, trying to conspicuously feel her for a fever. Emily wasn't fooled, though, and she weakly slapped Sharon's hand away.

"God, Mom, I told you, I'm fine. Just tired."

"This isn't 'just tired,' Emily. You've been mostly horizontal since you came home. A couple of days of that makes sense, but it's been over a week. Something's not right." Emily didn't answer and kept her eyes trained on the TV. Sharon decided to leave it alone for now. "All right, sweetie. We can talk about this later." She leaned down and kissed Emily's forehead before she could move away from her. She didn't feel like she had a fever, but lying around like this wasn't like Emily at all. She went to the kitchen to start dinner. Once the spaghetti sauce was put together and cooking on the stove, she changed into jeans and a cardigan, poured a glass of wine, and went to sit outside by the pool for a while.

Later that night, after Emily had pushed her dinner around her plate and closed herself in her bedroom, Sharon got up to go to bed. "Goodnight, Ricky. Don't stay up too late." She kissed his forehead, detoured to the kitchen for the thermometer, and went upstairs to check on Emily. She was lying down in bed and watching TV. "Hey, sweetheart. I'm about to go to bed, but I wanted to check your temperature first."

"Mom-"

"Humor me." Sharon held up the thermometer, and Emily knew this was a battle she couldn't win. She crossed her arms in a huff and opened her mouth for the thermometer. Sharon pulled it out a couple of minutes later when it beeped. "No fever..."

"Told you," Emily grumbled. "Can I go to sleep now?"

"Yes, but I'm calling your doctor in a couple of days if you're not any better." Sharon put her hands on Emily's cheeks and studied her closely. She noticed a small bulge just under her jawline, between her chin and her ear, and gently probed at it. "Em? How long has this been here?"

"What?"

"I guess it's a swollen lymph node. Does it hurt?"

"No...I haven't noticed it at all."

"Hmmm...I'm calling Dr. Blakely in the morning."

Later that night, Emily woke up with a raging sore throat, chills, and her whole body hurt and felt heavy. She'd never felt this sick before. She usually didn't tell her mom when she was sick because she drove her crazy, but it never took long for Sharon to find out, anyway. Emily knew she'd be able to help her feel better, so she tiptoed down the stairs and into her mom's room. "Mom...Mom!" Emily croaked, trying to shake her awake.

"Hmmm?" Sharon mumbled, not wanting to open her eyes.

"I don't feel good."

 _That_ caught Sharon's attention. She couldn't remember the last time Emily had admitted to not feeling well. She sat up and turned her lamp on. Emily's cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were bright with fever. "Oh, Emmy. Come here, let me see." Emily crawled into Sharon's bed and huddled under her covers. Sharon wrapped her arm around Emily and felt her forehead. "You, my child, are burning up. What hurts?"

"My throat...Everything."

"You probably have Strep. I'll take you to the doctor tomorrow, okay? Want to stay down here?" Emily nodded and cuddled against Sharon. "All right. Let me get the thermometer and something for your throat." Sharon came back with some hot tea and honey and slipped the thermometer into Emily's mouth. "Oh, honey, it's almost 104." Sharon kissed her daughter's burning forehead and helped her drink her tea before soothing her to sleep.

The next morning, Sharon immediately felt Emily's forehead when she woke up. She was still burning up. "Mom?" Emily mumbled. "You're staying home with me, aren't you?"

Sharon kissed her forehead. "Of course I am. I just have to take Ricky to school and run by work for half of a second, and then I'll be back."

Emily rolled over to Sharon's side of the bed as soon as she got up and inhaled her comforting scent that lingered in the linens. She felt like she'd just closed her eyes when she heard the garage door open. She thought Sharon was leaving to take Ricky to school until she heard the brief beeping of the alarm system that indicated that house door had been opened, and then more beeps as Sharon entered the alarm code in the kitchen so the _real_ alarm wouldn't go off, so she knew she'd already left and come back.

Emily felt Sharon's cool hand brush her hair back from her face and rest against her forehead. "You need to get up, honey. You have a doctor's appointment in an hour and a half, and you need to take a shower."

"Noooo," Emily moaned. Taking a shower sounded impossible.

"Yesssss. Your hair is one big greaseball. I can wash it in the sink, though, and you can just take a bath," Sharon offered. "No offense, but you're getting a little gross."

"I'm _so_ tired," Emily croaked.

"I know, baby." Sharon carefully looked Emily over. "When did you start feeling so tired? You've been sluggish since you came home."

Emily shrugged. "A couple of weeks ago? I don't _know_. I'm just tired."

"All right," Sharon said, trying to keep the worry out of her voice. This seemed worse than Strep Throat or the flu, and she was starting to worry that something was really wrong with her. "I'll wash your hair while the bath tub is filling up." It would take a while for her garden tub to fill up, so she started running the water and added some of her bath oil, got some shampoo and conditioner from her shower, and retrieved a towel from her bathroom closet. She put everything beside the sink in the kitchen before going to drag Emily out of bed. "Ok, Em, let's go wash this head of hair," Sharon said, gently pulling her out of bed. She helped her lie down across the kitchen counter, settled her head against the rolled-up towel, and waited for the water to warm up. "Aww, I haven't done this since you were a little girl," Sharon said, smiling as she used the detachable spigot to wet her hair.

Emily closed her eyes as Sharon worked shampoo through her hair and scratched her scalp with her fingernails. She loved for her mother's hands to be in her hair. It didn't take long for her to rinse the shampoo out, add conditioner, and rinse her hair from that. Emily soon heard the water turn off and felt her mom kiss her forehead. "Okay. All done." Sharon helped Emily off of the counter and to lean over so she could wrap her hair in the towel. She looked at the clock, knowing Emily would want to stay in the warm bath for a while. "You can stay in the bath for about thirty minutes. I'll go upstairs and get some clothes for you, and I'll dry your hair when you get out."

"Thanks, Mom." Emily trudged into Sharon's bathroom and climbed into the warm bathwater once she was undressed and had taken the towel out of her hair and brushed it out.

Sharon cracked the door open and tossed Emily's clothes in a little while later. "Ten more minutes, Em."

Emily went ahead and got out so she could lie down for a little bit. She dried off and put on the clothes Sharon brought for her before climbing back into her mom's bed. She groaned when Sharon gently pulled her into a sitting position a few minutes later, hairdryer in hand. Emily leaned against her knees as Sharon knelt behind her on her bed and dried her hair.

A little while later, they were at the doctor's office. Sharon signed Emily in and went back to the exam room with her when her name was called. A few minutes after a nurse had taken her vitals and asked a few questions, Dr. Blakely came in. "Well, hey, college girl," she greeted. "The first year wasn't too kind to you, huh?"

Emily shook her head and gave Sharon an expectant look, hoping she would explain what was wrong. "She came home a little over a week ago, and she's been tired and lying around most of the time. I thought she was just tired from finals at first, but she didn't seem to get any better, and then she woke up last night with a high fever and a terrible sore throat," Sharon explained. "And I noticed a swollen lymph node, I think right here," Sharon added, pointing it out to the doctor.

"All right, let's see what's going on, here." Dr. Blakely gently prodded at the lymph node, then slowly moved her hands along Emily's neck before peering into her throat. "I'm going to do a Strep Test and draw some blood, and we'll go from there, okay?"

"Blood?" Sharon asked, looking alarmed. The Strep Test didn't surprise her, but she wondered what the blood tests were for.

"I think Emily probably has Mononucleosis, but I need to rule out Strep, and while she's presenting with classic Mono symptoms, I still need to rule out some other things because of the severity and duration of her fatigue," Dr. Blakely explained, before swabbing the back of Emily's throat. "Come with me, Emily, and I'll go ahead and get a lab tech to draw some blood while I get your Strep Test started. Some of the results should come back before you leave today. You can wait in here, Sharon, this should only take a few minutes."

When they came back a few minutes later, Dr. Blakely examined Emily a little more thoroughly before retrieving a printout from a folder. "Okay, Emily, I need to ask you several questions to get a better idea of what's going on. Do you want your mom to wait in the waiting room for this part?"

Emily shook her head. "No, it's fine."

"Okay." Dr. Blakely asked a litany of questions, some of which made Sharon wonder what they had to do with anything. "Is there a possibility you're pregnant?" made her snap to attention, though.

"Are you sure you don't want me to leave, Em?" Emily hadn't had any serious boyfriends recently, that Sharon was aware of, but she still wasn't sure if she wanted to know the answer to this question.

" _No_ , Mom, it's fine. I'm not pregnant, unless it's the Christ Child."

Sharon laughed, feeling relieved. "Okay, but if you'd feel more comfortable answering any of the other questions without me in here, just tell me. It's okay."

A little while later, Dr. Blakely left to get results from Emily's throat swab and blood tests. "All right, your Strep Test was negative, and the Mono Spot was positive. The Mono Spot isn't always accurate, though, so I also sent off a sample for more specific testing. I'll call you in three or four days to let you know the results. Your CBC was normal, which rules out a lot of scary stuff, and I also tested for your Vitamin D, iron levels, thyroid, and some other smaller things just to make sure I'm not missing anything, and I'll let you know those results when I call you with the Mono antibody results."

"How long is this going to last?" Sharon asked.

"That's hard to say," Dr. Blakely answered. "The severity and longevity differs from person to person. Some people have it and never know it, some people have it and only have mild symptoms, and others have severe throat pain and fatigue that puts them in bed for weeks. I'm going to prescribe an oral steroid, which will help with her throat pain. If she has a headache or a high fever, you can give her some Tylenol, Advil, or whatever you have at home, but not Aspirin. Fever is necessary for fighting the germs off, though, so try to avoid that if she doesn't have a headache or a fever so high that she's uncomfortable. Her temperature may fluctuate in the next few days, so don't be alarmed if it goes down and then back up. And it may go away completely and then come back for a couple of days in the next few weeks. You'll need to rest, Emily-"

"No problem," Emily muttered.

Dr. Blakely smiled. "Even when you start to feel better, you'll still need to rest and drink fluids. It's okay if you don't have much of an appetite, though. Avoid alcohol and strenuous physical activity until your throat and glands are completely back to normal, and make an appointment for two weeks from now at the front desk when you guys check out. Any questions?"

"What about Ricky? Is Emily still contagious?" Sharon asked, dreading the thought of them both being so sick at the same time.

"Probably not. She would've been the most contagious before her symptoms started, and, even then, Mono isn't highly contagious. It's mostly spread through kissing or eating or drinking after someone who has it, but it usually requires fairly repetitive contact. It's even possible that he was exposed as a child and never developed symptoms, but that would still keep him from getting it from Emily. And, Sharon, you've most likely already been exposed at some point, even if you never had symptoms, so you probably don't have to worry, either. A vast majority of adults are exposed to Mono by the time they're thirty, whether they know it or not."

Sharon nodded. "I've never had it, that I'm aware of."

"Ugh, my roommate was sick before we went home," Emily moaned. "We ate and drank after each other all the time. She felt like she had Strep Throat, but she was waiting until she got home to go to the doctor."

"Mono is rampant in close quarters, like college dorms," Dr. Blakely agreed. "Any other questions?"

Sharon and Emily both shook their heads and thanked her before they left. Sharon stopped at her pharmacy to fill Emily's prescription and to buy some popsicles, juice, soup, magazines to entertain Emily, and some other things she would need in the next couple of weeks. Emily headed toward Sharon's room when they got home, so Sharon went upstairs to get her some clean pajamas. When she came back downstairs, Emily was coming out of her bathroom and collapsed into her bed. "Here, honey, I brought you some clean pjs. Go ahead and change while I get your medicine." Sharon went to the kitchen for Emily's prescription and a glass of juice while Emily changed clothes. She read the instructions on her way back to her room, shook two pills into her hand, and placed them in Emily's palm when she reached her bed.

"Thanks, Mom," Emily mumbled. She swallowed them with a few sips of juice and handed her glass back to Sharon before burrowing under the covers.

Sharon tucked her in and kissed her forehead. "You're welcome. Let me know if you need anything, okay?"

"Mm-hmm."

When Sharon left that afternoon to pick up Ricky at school, Emily still hadn't moved. "Do you want to drive?" Sharon asked when Ricky got in. He was still two months away from turning sixteen, but he'd had his permit for a while now.

"Nah, I'm not in the mood to get yelled at today. What's wrong with Emily?" Sharon had told him on the way to school that morning that she was taking her to the doctor. "Besides the obvious, anyway."

Sharon narrowed her eyes at him. "She's really sick, young man. She has Mono, and she's sicker than I've ever seen either of you."

"Wait, isn't that called, like, the kissing disease or something?"

Sharon rolled her eyes. "It's called that because it's mostly teenagers and college kids who get it. It can be spread by kissing, but it can also be spread by eating or drinking after someone who has it. Not that it's any of your business how she got it. Did you get your Algebra test back today?" Ricky mumbled something incoherent as his cheeks and ears flushed. "Ricky?"

"Um, you have to sign it," Ricky muttered.

Sharon paused and took a deep breath before continuing. She knew that was code for he failed it. He'd had a little trouble with it recently, but he'd also spent too much time playing around on the computer. She'd expected a lower-than-normal grade, but not a failing one. "What happened?"

"I just don't get it, okay?" Ricky grumbled. He wasn't used to not picking up on things easily, but instead of working harder at it or asking his teacher for help, he'd admittedly ignored it.

"Things won't always come easily to you, Ricky, and it's okay to admit that you need help. I asked you if I needed to find someone to help you, and you assured me that you could handle it." She hadn't believed him, but he was getting old enough to make decisions for himself, so she'd decided to let him endure the natural consequence of an unsatisfactory grade instead of making the decision for him sooner.

"I don't need a tutor, I'm not stupid!" Ricky protested.

"Of course you're not, honey, but part of being intelligent is seeking help when you need it. No one is good at everything, but failing grades aren't acceptable. Algebra is the foundation for the rest of any other math classes you'll take in high school or college, and if you don't get it now, then it will only get worse." Sharon reached over and patted his arm. "We'll talk about this later, but I want you to go through your test and review the material again this afternoon, and then I'll take a look at it tonight. And no playing on the computer, unless you need it for school, until after finals. You'll need a good grade on your exam to pull this up."

" _Mom_ -"

"I'm sorry, honey, but I warned you that you wouldn't like the consequences if your grades started to slip."

Once they got home and Ricky'd had a snack and gotten his school things out, Sharon turned on the family desktop computer in the living room and played around with the settings until she figured out how to put a password on it. She didn't trust Ricky not to try to sneak in some computer time when she wasn't home. With that taken care of, she got a glass of wine and went to sit outside. When she went in a little while later to get dinner out of the oven, the kitchen and living room were empty, so Ricky had clearly moved to his room at some point. She set the table and quickly tossed a salad before calling Ricky to the table. "Ricky! Dinner's ready!" She called from the bottom of the stairs.

"Coming," his muffled voice sounded from his room.

"How is studying coming?" Sharon asked once they were seated at the table.

"It's...coming," Ricky mumbled. "Blake's a whiz at Algebra, though, so I called him a couple of times, and it's going a little better."

Emily shuffled in halfway through dinner, still looking miserable. "Hi, honey, do you want something to eat?"

She shook her head. "I'm thirsty, and my head hurts. Can I have some Tylenol?"

Sharon got up and got the Tylenol from the medicine cabinet. "Here. Let me get you some juice." Once Emily had taken the pills, Sharon held her hand to her forehead. "Hmm, you still feel hot. Has the medicine helped at all?"

"A little bit," Emily croaked.

"So, Twinkles, I heard you have the kissing disease," Ricky cracked from the table. "When did you finally find someone who would kiss you?"

"That's _enough_ , young man," Sharon warned.

"Don't you have an Algebra test you should be failing?" Emily retorted. "The phone rang before you guys got back and woke me up, and your teacher left a message for Mom. It's basic high school math! How dumb can-"

"That's enough, both of you," Sharon interrupted.

"Fine. I'm going back to bed," Emily mumbled.

Later that evening, Sharon sat in the living room to go over Ricky's test while he studied in the kitchen. She was relieved to find out that some of the problem was just careless errors rather than him not grasping the material, but it was obvious that he needed some extra work. She looked through his test, trying to figure out where he needed help. After going through some of his previous homework with him, she suggested that he invite Blake over that weekend and that she would pay him to help him, and then they would go from there. She signed the top of his test and put it on top of his notebook.

A week and a half later, Sharon picked Ricky up on his last day of school. She'd been working from home as much as she could, since Emily hadn't gotten much better, but she'd gone to work some, too. "Look, Mom, I made a 93 on my final!" Ricky exclaimed as he got in her car and practically threw his exam at her. "And I did well on the material that was covered by the last test, so my teacher let this grade replace that one."

"That's great, honey!" Sharon praised as she looked at his test. "I'm so proud of you."

"Oh, god, can we just go home? Please don't get all mushy on me."

When they got home, Ricky went straight for the computer, and Sharon sat on the couch to look through the mail. Emily ambled downstairs a few minutes later, got her favorite blanket from one of the cabinets of the entertainment center, and lay against Sharon on the couch. She hated seeing Emily so sick, but she had to admit that she was loving that she was so attached to her. She'd never been like that before. "Still not feeling too good, hmm?" Sharon asked sympathetically as she brushed Emily's hair back from her face. "Oh, honey, I think you're running a fever again." Sharon's hand paused on her forehead and drifted to her cheek. Her temperature had been normal for a couple of days, but Dr. Blakely had told her this was normal.

"Cold," Emily complained.

"I know." Sharon tightened the blanket around her and wrapped her arms around her. "Do you want me to get another blanket?"

"No, this feels better."

A couple of months later, Emily finally felt like herself again. She'd gradually felt better during that time, but it took at least two months for the last remnants of the fatigue and achiness to go away.

 ** _I'm sorry for the awkward ending, but I had to wrap this up. And I know these have been mothership-heavy, but it seemed to me like the people who requested these chapters enjoy that, so they're whom these last chapters are being written for. Also, I've had Mono twice (which is supposedly rare, but, anyway), and even the smallest details mentioned about it are either things I experienced myself or things that my doctor told me were possible. :)_**


	17. Chapter 17

**This is my last fanfic request, thanks so much for sticking with me through this story!**

One Wednesday morning a couple of months after moving in with Sharon, Rusty woke up with his head pounding and his stomach feeling like crap. He was freezing, and his arms and legs felt like they weighed a ton. There was no way in hell he was going to school like this, but there was a little obstacle named Darth Raydor he had to get through to be able to stay home. This hadn't been a problem with his other foster families. If he was sick, then he just didn't go to school. They didn't notice or care. While living with Sharon was much better in all other aspects, he knew he wouldn't be able to stay home from school without her approval, and he had no idea what that would involve. At least he wasn't in "emergency custody" anymore, so she wouldn't have to worry about what to do with him while she was at work.

Rusty wasn't due to get up for a couple of hours, but he could smell coffee and hear dishes clanging from the kitchen, so he knew Sharon was awake. He figured she was the type to get up at the crack of dawn, but, _damn_ , it wasn't even 5:00 yet. He thought about just staying in bed until she came to wake him up because he hadn't gotten up with his alarm, but that wouldn't be for a while. Sharon usually allowed him a snooze button or two before threatening to pull him out of bed by his hair. He thought she might know how to make him feel better, and he was miserable, so he got up and shuffled down the hall, silently willing the contents of his stomach to stay where they were long enough to see if she could do anything about it.

Sharon was still in her nightgown and pouring a cup of coffee when Rusty got to the kitchen. She wasn't wearing her glasses or makeup, and her hair was still disheveled from sleep. He'd never seen her when she wasn't fully dressed and put-together, and she looked comforting this way. Sharon looked up when she heard Rusty come in. "You're up early," she commented, with a note of inquiry in her voice. She studied him for about half of a second before realizing what the problem was. She couldn't tell what specifically was bothering him, but she could tell from his flushed cheeks and bleary eyes that he was running a fever. "Oh, Rusty. You're staying home today. Go back to bed, and I'll be right there."

"I feel like crap, Sharon," Rusty blurted out.

Sharon's expression softened. The poor kid looked terrified. Not to mention miserable. "I can tell, honey. It's okay. Go on back to bed. I'm right behind you." She mentally kicked herself, knowing that she was vastly unprepared for this. She'd been meaning to buy medicine and a thermometer to have on hand for when this day inevitably arrived, but she hadn't gotten around to it. She didn't even have a thermometer. The one she had when Emily and Ricky were still at home hadn't survived the move when she sold her house and bought the condo, and she hadn't had a need to replace it until now. She got a glass of water for Rusty and went back to his room.

Rusty gratefully obeyed and climbed back in bed, but he was a little bewildered. _That_ was easy. A little _too_ easy. He didn't have long to dwell on it, though, as he could hear the sound of Sharon's bare feet padding down the hall. He cringed when he felt the edge of his mattress sag under her weight, but he relaxed when he felt her fingers brushing through his hair.

It was far too early in the morning, and Sharon hadn't had nearly enough caffeine to overthink how to approach Rusty now that he was sick, so she made the executive decision to treat him like she would her own children, gauge his reactions, and wing it from there. She could read him pretty easily, and it was more important to her for him to feel cared for than it was to respect his boundaries at the moment. If he seemed uncomfortable, then she'd back off. "I don't have a thermometer anymore, so I have to do this the old-fashioned way," she said apologetically as she moved her hand from his hair to rest against his forehead. He was feverish, but he didn't feel as hot as she'd expected based upon how miserable he looked. She studied him closely, trying to figure out what the problem was.

"Feels good," Rusty murmured. It really did. His face felt hot, but the rest of his body was freezing, and Sharon's cool hand felt amazing against his skin. No one had ever cared for him when he'd been sick before. He looked up at Sharon and couldn't read her expression. "I really do feel sick," he mumbled, worried that she was starting to think that he was faking.

"I know, honey." Sharon moved her hand to Rusty's cheek. "I could tell you had a fever when you came into the kitchen. I just need an idea of how high it is. What hurts?"

"Head and stomach and cold as freaking hell," Rusty muttered.

"All right, I'm going to need a refund on your tuition if you think Hell is cold."

"Shaaaaaaron, you know what I meant!" Rusty groaned.

Sharon smiled. "I know. I'm kidding. Do you feel achy?"

Rusty nodded.

Sharon sighed. She'd heard that there was a particularly vicious stomach virus making its rounds through the LAPD, but she hadn't heard anything in the last several days, so she was hoping it had died out. Rusty's symptoms matched what she'd heard about it, though. Fever, chills, flu-like aches, bad headache, and stomach problems of both varieties. It wasn't the kind that only lasted a few hours, or even a day, either. People had been out for two or three days at a time with it. "Have you gotten sick?" Rusty shook his head. "All right. I need to go to the pharmacy and get some things. I don't even have any Tylenol. I won't be gone long, but _call me_ if you need me. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Sharon hastily brushed her teeth and traded her nightgown for a pair of leggings and an oversized LAPD sweatshirt. She grabbed her purse, slipped into a pair of sandals, and took the elevator down to the lobby. As much as she sometimes missed her old house, having a 24-hour pharmacy on her block came in handy. She was usually an early riser, but she hadn't slept well and had gotten up even earlier than usual. She had the pharmacy mostly to herself as she filled her basket with various medicine, ginger ale, popsicles, Gatorade, a thermometer, and a few other sick-day supplies and went to check out.

"Sick child at home, huh?" The clerk commented as Sharon swiped her debit card. Sharon nodded and smiled her thanks as she got her bags and left. At least he'd said 'child' and not 'grandchild.' When she got back to the condo, she heard the unmistakable sound of Rusty getting sick from the bathroom. She left the bags on the kitchen counter and detoured to his room for his glass of water before going to take care of him. She hadn't dealt with a vomiting child since Ricky was a junior in high school, but she dampened a washcloth with cold water and patted Rusty's back, wiping his face between heaves, without even thinking about what she was doing. Her ministrations felt too good for Rusty to tell her to leave him alone, or to be embarrassed about the fact that she was witnessing him throwing up.

Sharon gave Rusty his glass of water when he was finished. "Here, rinse your mouth out." She flushed the toilet and wiped his mouth after he handed the glass back to her. "Are you okay to go back to bed?"

Rusty nodded and let Sharon help him up. She got the Tylenol, thermometer, and a glass of ginger ale for him and tucked him back into bed. "Feel a little better?"

"A little...Stomach still feels gross."

"Does it hurt at all, or does it just feel upset?" Sharon asked, starting to worry about appendicitis.

"Just gross."

"Hmm." Sharon's hand went back to his forehead. "I don't think your fever's too high, but you look terrible, and I'm a little out of practice. Let me check your temperature, and then you can try to go back to sleep." She smoothed his bangs down and reached for the thermometer.

"Sharon, really, you don't have to do all of this. Just lemme sleep." Rusty's eyes were closed, but he could hear her opening what he guessed was a new thermometer.

"I'll feel better if I know for sure. Under your tongue."

"I'll be fine-ngghh." Rusty was silenced when Sharon slipped the thermometer into his mouth. He opened his eyes and saw her staring back at him with a concerned expression on her face. _This_ was definitely new for him.

"100.7. Not bad," Sharon announced when the thermometer beeped a minute later. "Can you hold down some Tylenol?"

"I guess."

Sharon shook two tablets from the bottle and handed them to Rusty. "Slowly," she warned him as he washed them down with ginger ale. "It'll help your headache, but I'm afraid it won't do anything for your stomach. There's not much you can do for a stomach bug except let it run its course." Sharon sat beside him and started scratching his back. This had always been a crowd-pleaser with Emily and Ricky, and she hoped it would comfort Rusty, too.

"But-ughhh, you don't play fair." Rusty calmed under Sharon's soothing touch, and he found himself wishing that she didn't have to go to work. Once he was asleep, Sharon got up to put the groceries away, clean the kitchen, and catch up on laundry. She knew she'd have her hands full for a couple of days. After folding a load of laundry and moving another load from the washer to the dryer, she delivered the clean clothes to their respective bedrooms and sat on the empty side of Rusty's bed with her computer. He was still sleeping, but he was restless, so she didn't want to go too far in case he needed something. She intended to go through some paperwork, but she was starting to feel drowsy, so she closed her computer and reached over Rusty to place it on his desk. It was still too early to call in excuses for the day for herself and Rusty, so she intended to just rest her eyes until it was time to do that and then get some work done. Next thing she knew, the sound of her ringing phone was pulling her from a deep sleep. She didn't have the presence of mind to see who wanted what until it stopped ringing and dinged with a text message a few moments later. Ugh, her arm felt heavy as she got her phone from Rusty's nightstand. She had a text from Buzz that he would be out sick today, confirming that the rumored stomach virus had indeed made it to the ninth floor, and two missed calls and two texts from Provenza. _How_ was it already 9:15?

 _Hey, Captain, are you going to grace us with your presence this morning, or what?_

 _Captain! Do we need to start a grid search?_

Sharon shivered as she tapped out a response, wondering why it was so cold all of a sudden. _Rusty woke up sick, so I'm keeping him home. Will probably be out tomorrow, too. Tell Taylor for me?_ They texted back and forth a couple more times before she had a chance to call St. Joseph's. She was supposed to have done that by 8:30, so she quickly explained Rusty's absence and apologized for not calling sooner. By the time she got off of the phone, she was more awake and realized that the coldness and achiness she was feeling could only mean that she was running a fever for the first time in about six years. Her stomach felt unsettled, and she had a worsening headache, so she knew she was the next virus victim.

Rusty woke up as Sharon was ending her phone call and looked at the clock on his desk. "Work?" He mumbled, wondering why she was still there.

Sharon brushed his bangs back from his forehead. "No, honey, I didn't want to leave you alone when you're feeling so bad." Rusty was sleeping again before he could respond. He inched a little closer to Sharon, so she figured he was pretty comfortable with her being with him like this. She tried to go back to sleep, but her growing discomfort prevented her from getting past a light doze. Her head was pounding before long, but she hated that Rusty was in this much pain more so than herself. She was surprised he hadn't complained more than he had, especially given his track record of complaining. After lying down until the last possible second, Sharon staggered out of bed and made her way across the hall. She dropped to her knees in front of the toilet and held her hair back as she threw up for the first time since the morning after her first night as an empty-nester when she'd overdone it a little with the wine. She grabbed the toilet seat to pull herself up when she thought she was finished, but ended up heaving a couple more times before she felt well enough to leave the bathroom. Her stomach still felt horrible, but she knew she could finally go back to bed. She hadn't even had a chance to flush the toilet before Rusty stumbled in, obviously in the same shape Sharon had just been in. She moved to the side and motioned for Rusty to come in when he hesitated at the door. "Come on, honey. I'm finished." She dampened a cloth and patted his back as he started throwing up.

"You're...sick?" Rusty gasped between heaves.

"It's not your fault, Rusty, don't worry. I'll explain in a few minutes. Let's get you taken care of." She wiped his face and steadily patted his back as he continued throwing up, trying to ignore the sour taste in her mouth and her desire to rinse her own mouth out, and flushed the toilet when he was finished. Once Rusty was cleaned up and back in bed, she could finally wipe her face and rinse her own mouth out. She staggered across the hall and stopped in his doorway. "Mind if I stay in here with you? It'll be easier than getting up to check on you."

Rusty nodded without really thinking about it. He'd met Darth Sharon, Warden Sharon, School Police Sharon, and Eat Your Vegetables, Young Man Sharon, but Mom Sharon was a new one. It was nice to be taken care of by someone who actually knew something about being a mother. He'd never felt so comfortable with her before. "Sharon, I'm so sor—"

"Shh, honey, it's okay. This virus has been going around the LAPD for a while, now. We were probably exposed to it at the same time, and I'm actually glad you started with it this morning. I'd much rather get sick in my own bathroom than at work!" Sharon climbed in the other side of Rusty's bed and rubbed his back. "Wake me up if you need me."

As the virus progressed, the 'two sick people, one bathroom' thing proved to be problematic. Late Wednesday night, Sharon had just started throwing up when Rusty scrambled out of bed. He ran for the kitchen when he saw Sharon in the bathroom, and she winced when she heard vomit hitting the floor. "Don't worry about it!" She gasped. "I'll get it." She went to the kitchen to check on him when she was finished, relieved to see that he'd thought to use the side of the sink with the garbage disposal. They'd both been asleep for a while before she woke up, but he looked worse, not better. "Oh, Rusty," she murmured. She patted his back and wiped his face as violent heaves wracked his body.

"Go...to...bed..." Rusty managed to say.

"No, honey. You look miserable." A couple of minutes later, she gave him some water and guided him back to bed.

"Sharon, you are not cleaning up my puke. I—"

"It's okay, Rusty. I'm taking care of you. I've got it." Sharon tucked him back into bed and went to tackle the mess in the hall and the sink. She'd dealt with vomit enough with her own children for it not to faze her anymore, but she was still feeling a little queasy, so she gagged a little as she cleaned it up. When that was taken care of, she collapsed back into bed.

On Thursday morning, they found themselves in a similar predicament. Neither one of them had gotten sick that many times, the episodes were just spread out. Sharon had just dropped to her knees in front of the toilet when Rusty started banging on the door. "Sharon! I've gotta get in there."

"Go to the kitchen!" Sharon gasped.

"I have to _go_ , Sharon! You don't want me doing this in the sink, I promise. And you have about five seconds before it happens on the floor." He was in serious danger of shitting himself for the first time since he was about three.

"Okay, just give me a min—"

"5...4...3..."

" _Okay_." Sharon covered her mouth, flung the door open, and moved as quickly as she could down the hall.

"Ewwww, Sharon, you didn't even flush!"

By Friday morning, they were both feeling better, and Sharon doubted either of them would get sick again, but the other variety of stomach problems made her reluctant to stray too far from home. Rusty probably felt the same way. "Hafta go to school?" He mumbled from under the covers.

"Absolutely not." Sharon pulled his comforter down so she could take a look at him. She didn't feel like she had a fever anymore, but Rusty's cheeks were still slightly flushed. "I wouldn't make you go anyway, but you look like you still have a little fever." She couldn't really tell when she felt him with her hand, so she brushed his bangs back and kissed his forehead. "Hmmm, you're still a little warm...What do you need?" She asked when Rusty started to get up.

"Thirsty."

"I'll get it—"

"No, I want to get up. I'm tired of being in bed." Rusty got up and followed Sharon into the kitchen. She got the thermometer out of the medicine cabinet, slipped it into his mouth, and got him a glass of gatorade while she waited for it to beep. She pulled it out of his mouth a minute later. "99.4. Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah. I mean, my stomach's still a little...uh..."

"Icky?" Sharon supplied. Rusty nodded and gave her a look, surprised that _icky_ was in her pristine vocabulary. She tilted her head. "What? Do you have a better word for it?"

"No...I'm just surprised _you_ don't."

"Ha, ha. You'll be okay, honey. I think we're finally on the back end of this thing."

"Thanks for taking care of me," Rusty murmured.

"Always." Sharon kissed his forehead. "I love you and will always care for you, whether you like it or not."

 **I'm sorry this was so rushed, but I'm excited for my next story, so I rushed through this chapter. All of you are amazing!**


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